Twitter side story
by iCactus
Summary: This is an unofficial continuation of Maruyama's spin-off, Overlord Twitter Side Story, where Momonga meets Evileye in the era of the 13 heroes.
1. Reintroduction

This is an unofficial canon continuation of Maruyama's twitter side story of Momonga meeting Evileye in the era of the 13 heroes.

For people who do not know the prologue, you can either:

1) Go to SkytheWood and read it there,

or 2) read it in **Sugar and Spice and All That's Nice** posted by SpicyPizza on Fanfiction

Short summary of Maruyama's prologue:

Momonga has transported to New World 200 years prior the main storyline. This time, instead of sitting inside the Throne Hall, he went outside and checked the fireworks finale. He was alone and Nazarick wasn't transported with him. Then he met a [little girl] named "Inberun[aka Evileye]". ~ **Sugar and Spice and All That's Nice** posted by SpicyPizza

* * *

 **Reintroduction**

 **-XXX-**

Her eyes emitted a crimson glow that contrasted her long waist length golden hair. Being showered by the moonlight, her face was truly to be a spectacle to behold. However, Momonga did not have the luxury to admire it.

"Keeno, you said your parents are gone… where…?" asked Momonga.

"M… my…"

Tears started to well in the corner of the girl's eyes.

"Waah…!"

"Wait…! I can help you. I am Sator…"

"Waaah…!"

The crying girl displayed no intent of listening.

 _Uwah… What do I do?_ thought Momonga. Being a simple salaryman for the last decade, he had no experience in dealing with children.

He scratched his skull, hoping that an answer would surface to calm her crying.

"… Mo… mother always told… told me… not to talk with strangers… or, or, or get involved wi… with monsters…!"

The girl sniffed her dribbling snot back in and continued crying.

"… Now, now a strange… skeleton man is going to eat me. Waah…!"

 _Ah! So that's it. But… what do I do…?_

The reason was now known but the problem remained. Momonga did not possess many items that can alter one's appearance, especially, into something friendly for children.

Momonga now had the appearance of an adorable pink slime – resembling a soft, squishy, and delectable jelly – with googly eyes. It was a popular choice among the female players because of its looks.

"Waah…!" her crying unexpectedly changed into a shriek of terror. "Monster of legends! I'm going to be dissolved! Help…!"

The faint smell of ammonia wafted through the air.

Horrified of her worst nightmares coming to life, the girl covered her eyes with her hands.

 _Eh…? Isn't this slime cute? Well, the only thing I have left is…_

"[Greater item creation]"

The air was filled with the crackling of electricity and the swirling of purple lights.

The girl felt an odd sensation against her skin. She peeked from between her fingers to see what was going on.

A knight in jet-black metal plates adorned with golden ornaments stepped into her sight.

He gracefully placed the two great swords down.

Approaching the girl, he took a knee – The image of a knight helping his princess.

"W… where are the monsters?" uttered the girl.

Momonga took a deep sigh of relief. The girl settling down meant that he could finally converse with her and begin collecting information soon enough.

"I chased them away."

"I, I won't be eaten…?"

"No."

"And, y… you are…?"

"I am…"

Momonga paused himself to ponder.

 _Something easy to remember and pronounce for children is best, so…_

"… I am Momon."

"Dark Hero Momon! My secret 14th hero!"

Her eyes glittered with admiration.

A star fell, marking this fated meeting.

 **-XXX-**


	2. Chapter 1: Comfort

**Comfort**

 **-XXX-**

Momon laid himself against the slopes of the grassy plains.

He was neither physically tired nor fatigued – It was just that it was a comfortable position to process the situation he was in.

He listlessly wondered his thoughts into the sky.

The wind gently caressed him and dissipated the veil of clouds.

 _Uwah… Beautiful… No. Beautiful just doesn't describe it well enough. Blue Planet-san, is this the nature you loved so much…? Am I free to explore this world to my content…?_

Reaching out his hand, he pretended to grab the stars – the countless jewels – scattered in the endless aethers.

 _A treasure box… if I still had the might of Nazarick, I may have… just may have attempted to decorate my friends… Ainz Ooal Gown… with it. I wonder… how will things have proceeded…?_

Momon smiled at this statement, because knowing his friends, they may have misinterpreted him with the intention to conquer this world. This was one of many fleeting thoughts that trickled, but it was one that sent small bitter memories rippling through his mind.

Although meaningless to an undead, Momon rhythmically breathed with his lungless chest as he rested his hands on them.

Gazing at the dancing stars, he could not remember last time in his life when he was this relaxed.

"Hey… hey… Momon…"

A small voice chimed, pulling him back to reality.

Momon responded with an "Hmm…?" lazily in his position.

"As expected… one of common birth does not know the proper etiquette and elegance needed when answering."

"Hoh~? Elegance, huh~? And, I wonder… for _who_ did I make the bath for?"

"Th… that was then! Anyways! I'm done with the bath."

Due to the little accident from earlier, Momon used the magic item [Infinite Jug] to clean and fill a, somewhat, decent looking basin among the rubble. He then used a [Explorer's Torch] to gently heat the water and dry Keeno's clothing after rinsing them.

He was quite pleased with himself for being able to utilise the items in such unconventional ways.

 _A little praise wouldn't hurt, you know?_

Momon stood up to look at the pouting Keeno.

Her face was a little flushed from the hot-bath. Her hair was a little wet, yet, she still decided to cover herself using the tattered blood-red hood – Perhaps, to prevent heat loss but _it suited her_.

"Keeno… are you really the same child?"

"Of course I am the same person! Do you have eyes!?"

He did not. At the same time, that was not what he meant. Her meekness disappeared – poofed – into thin air.

Keeno's clothing was strange. Black dress, ripped long-sleeved gloves, high-ankle shoes that were made with leather.

Black dress, ripped long-sleeved gloves, high-ankle shoes that were made with leather he never _encountered before_ – Though, it was comparable to those worn by thieves back in Yggdrasil. The only thing that was not leather were _her stockings and her pan… Ahem._ Chains and binding ornaments decorated her arms – _Perhaps, ceremonial?_

Regardless, the clothing was hardly appropriate for a child her age, otherwise, _it would do for now_.

"Wha… what? You don't have to look at me so intently."

 _I need more information on my surrounding…_

"Keeno, tell me…"

A "Guuu…" sound interrupted.

"…"

"…"

Keeno lowered her head to hide her furious blushing.

...

...

...

"Hey, why didn't you eat with me?"

"I ate when I was cooking earlier."

"Boo…"

Keeno showed a disgruntled expression, as Momon walked off to discard the leftovers.

 _Thanks for becoming our… her dinner… weird bird… reptile… thing_ , Momon thought, while using the [Infinite Jug] to flush the blade. As far as he knew, blades created through magic did not corrode. However, he still preferred cleanliness. _She ate quite a lot despite complaining how horrible it was. Just how long did she go without food?_

With Yggdrasil mechanics, when someone tried to cook in the absence of the cooking skill leveled, the result always ends in scorched food. However, his grilled meat did not burn – _Is it because raw grilling is not considered cooking… or did I twist the method too far for rules to apply?_

He put away the extra [Explorer's torch] that was used for grilling, leaving two out for just enough light source and warmth.

 _I wonder… what will happen if I actually tried to cook? There are more questions I want answers to but…_

Earlier, when he tried to have a friendly chat with Keeno during the meal, she started choking because food ballooned her cheeks. Therefore, it would be best to leave the matter for later. It would be an absolute embarrassment to if [Resurrection Wand] was used for such a thing.

Following the return from his initial cleaning duties, Momon sighed again. It was not a depressive sigh, but one that displayed relief from a heavy burden – because there – leaning against a boulder over twice her size – he saw the state Keeno was in. Down and out – Keeno's peaceful sleeping, but unkempt, face was on full display.

Quietly and carefully to not wake her, he wetted some cloth to dab her face.

Then he detached the thick red cloak he wore – laid her down – and tucked her in with it.

"Are kids always like this?"

An intimate conversation with Yamaiko slowly surfaced in his memories.

 _"_ _Ah… I don't want to work tomorrow…," Momonga complained depressively. "I'm so tired of dealing with my junior's overly lax attitude. I just don't know anymore…"_

 _"_ _Momonga…," Yamaiko gently comforted. "Children, adults, students, workers… only relax when they are either close to… or… trust the ones guiding them."_

 _"_ _And…? How did you guide your students?"_

 _"_ _I understand you want results but everyone is different… You may not realise it… but your unwillingness to let people down makes you a natural leader. You just need to see it through. And, I'm sure they will understand you… eventually."_

 _"_ _Eventually you say…"_

 _"_ _You are… a really nice person aren't you?" said Yamaiko unexpectedly._

 _"_ _Wah?" Momonga replied in a fluster. "Why do you say that?"_

 _"_ _An unconcerned person would avoid and ignore those that display failing behaviour… Mmmm…," Yamaiko ponder for a bit. "If I must guess… you are concerned because you don't want to see people around you fail, right…?"_

 _"…"_

 _Momonga's quietness confirmed the truth, so Yamaiko continued._

 _"…_ _So, you want to take it upon yourself to make sure they succeed. But…"_

 _"_ _But?"_

 _"…_ _Is there really only one correct way to do things?"_

 _"_ _What do you mean, Yamaiko?"_

 _"_ _Let's take Punitto Moe's 'PK Guide for Dummies' for example… are they always set in stone?"_

 _"_ _Of course not. They are considerations… applied at the user's discretion."_

 _"_ _Exactly… then… what is the point just going through the motions and not adjusting to the circumstance?"_

 _"_ _Ah…," responded Momonga, as he hit an epiphany. He remembered some good points about his junior. "Yamaiko, you make a really good counsellor."_

 _"_ _Well, part of a teacher's job is supposed to give her students counselling," Yamaiko proudly reaffirmed._

 _"_ _Then consider me your student!" jested Momonga._

 _"_ _Geez…," giggled Yamaiko. "You sure are a charmer, aren't you? I don't need the leader of a guild… who acts all evil… but is actually just a big flirt… as a student."_

 _"_ _Haha…," laughed Momonga. "Aren't you just trying to dodge out from being the shadow boss?"_

Momon shook his head and sighed.

 _A child is much too different. Besides, logically speaking… her value is minimal… and at best… she is a burden to me._

He considered abandoning her as there was very little merit, but so far, he found no signs of other intelligent life in the explored areas. If things went south, the girl would be abandoned.

Would the stars frown upon such a decision?

The little girl whimpered as if picking up his intentions in her sleep.

"Mmh…"

"…!?"

He hesitated.

Momon, the Dark Warrior, hesitated.

 _Sleep-talk, huh?_ _Keeno Fasris Inberun… Ah… dammit. Now I'll have a bad aftertaste if situation calls for it…_

In a small gust of wind, he changed back into his jet-black academic gown, adorned with gold and violet edges.

"… But… slaying a couple of goblins lurking in the shadows… will not have my sympathies…"

The hideous creatures – covered in blisters and boils of oozing pus – shuffled in the shadows roughly 10 meters away.

Although he did not think the goblin will get past him, he still decided to set up a few insurances.

"… [Anti-life cocoon], [Ranged barrier], [Reduce to murmurs]"

The first two spells are self-explanatory.

[Anti-life cocoon] repels other life away from the target in a small AOE over a set duration, whereas [Ranged barrier] protects target low-leveled projectiles in a small AOE over a set duration.

[Reduce to murmurs] was placed so loud noises will not startle Keeno and make her scurry around in unpredictable patterns. Unpredictable patterns made a recipe for unpredictable battles.

Despite magic being unfathomable to the mind of goblins, it was in their innate instinct to want to avoid everything about this lich: the eyes that burned of hatred for the living, the obsidian aura that seemed to distort the world, the confident posture of a true predator, and the invisible hand that seemed to grip their hearts.

However, all living things needed to eat. The goblin duo drooled and their blood boiled, focused on nothing but their expected reward. If they could just snatch away the _prize_ d _female_ – it would _satisfy_ their _appetites_ – in more ways than one.

"Lich… bash…," said the first, with broken words.

"Female… take…," added the second, with the protruding horn.

"You have guts… trying to undo my handy work…"

The girl whimpered in her sleep.

"… Oh dear… looks like I have to keep my [Despair Aura] in check, too. I wonder if friendly-fire works differently here…"

"Grr…, grr…?"

"Rr…?"

The duo fell into disarray. It was as if a raging torrent was suddenly reduced to nothing but a calm pond.

For the first time in these goblins' lives, their feeble brains came ever so close to structuring a sensible question.

"Grah… argh!" commanded the goblin with a horn protruding from its head.

 _The superior of the two, perhaps?_

Although there were similarities shared between the goblins, the goblins were also very different to each other. The shape of the limbs, size of the torsos, to the features of the face – It was almost as if both of them belonged to completely separate species.

 _Ah…! I really want to know more!_ _Ha… This girl better be worth it later!_

The lich pointed his bony finger towards the goblins.

"[Fireb…]"

A massive fireball formed at the fingertip, but surprisingly, evaporated into thin air moments before launch.

The lich glanced at the female and scratched its skull. It murmured, "No. I change my mind."

On the other hand, the goblins crackled in laughter, thinking the spell had failed. The duo recklessly charged with their new found courage.

"Harharhar…! Weak! Lich! Weak!"

"Kyahahragh…! Stronger! I! Stronger!"

The lich reached out its hand as if about to grab an object.

 _I don't have a spell to block out the wild smell of burnt flesh and blood…_

"… Whatever. I don't like the smell either. [Heart Grasp]"

One goblin fell like a puppet with its strings cut.

"Gerhhh!?"

Confused at what has happened to his comrade, the horned goblin swung his club in desperation.

Normally, it would be safer in this situation to cast a defensive spell. However, without even trying, the bony hand intercepted and caught the wrist of the horned goblin in mid-air.

The horned goblin flew in a beautiful arc – is but a sweet lie. Meeting the cruel earth brought forth the dreadful truth.

The sign of life extinguished.

 _Uwah… so weak. These goblins don't even match up to low-level Yggdrasil ones. I might have well just whacked them to death to preserve mana. But, the real problem is… I really have no idea how to grasp their strength!_

There was no way to test [Low-level nullification] given how both goblins were defeated. No. How is one meant to measure such measly strength by comparing when the difference is that of heaven and earth?

Just as Momon was contemplating about how his strength compared in this world, a few more faint blips emerged on his mental radar.

The signals displayed by [Terra Observa] were weak – Dismissible as small animals. If it was not for Momon's curiosity and cautiousness, the signals would be overlooked.

[Terra Observa] was an effect added to the radar for all classes in Yggdrasil. The intensity of the signal corresponded to the HP. However, similar to that of all information collection abilities, the downfall was that information can be manipulated. Despite this, Momon was only planning linear and uncomplicated battles against simple mobs that no one of high caliber will be interested in.

Even if he was ambushed by multiple powerful opponents, Momon was confident that he could escape. This was reinforced by the fact that he once escaped the rampage of Nazarick's NPCs in the past.

Luci*fer claimed he accidentally distributed the codes for the treasury golems in a guild NPC upgrade. He claimed the code was meant to protect the wielder of the Ainz Ooal Gown staff. Of course, being the first to log on that day, Momon had the honour of testing out the patchwork work as the leader.

To this day, Momon remains sceptical because it felt like isolated incident against him. In simple terms, it was a grudge.

"[Evil eye], [Greater item creation]…"

Momon took a quick glance at the child.

"Evil eye, observe of any threats against her."

 _I wonder if it is a little dangerous to test out my abilities like this. Well, I literally have an eye on her. It should be fine if I draw attention somewhere else nearby._

The Dark Warrior took his stance and plundered into his curiosity head on.

"Let's see how the strength of a low-level warrior compares. I hope entertainment is not an issue."

…

…

...

It was early in the morning. The dew has just settled and the air was utmost refreshing.

Momon and Keeno were strolling along a forest border, because according to Keeno, there should be human civilisation if they followed it. Perhaps, the only one truly strolling was Momon, as Keeno was kicking up a storm.

"Hmph! There's no way you took on this bunch of monsters by yourself!" proclaimed Keeno. She had been denying Momon's work ever since surveying the surrounding. "You don't smell of blood… You are unscathed… No trace of elemental magic… Above all, it's impossible!"

"What do you mean by impossible?" asked Momon.

"Are you taking me for an idiot? One goblin generally has an adventurer difficulty of 3… maybe 2 for veterans… for a dominating victory. Yet… you claim to have killed them by yourself… with no traps. By the looks of one of the goblin with no physical wound, you must have used poison…"

Adventure rating was a system that helped to determine the difficulty of quests or monsters. The system is unreliable due to it being based on experience and estimation, but it was better than nothing.

"… The 3 gnolls and 2 ogres can easily decimate a party of twelve…"

Momon smiled under his helmet. He finally had the chance to seek the information he wanted.

"Hooo~? So you're saying I'm strong?"

"No. I'm saying you're a liar. You probably removed the traps before I woke up this morning. Trying to spread rumour this way won't work with me, you know? Even the other thirteen heroes will tire if they had consecutive battles of such calibre."

"You sure know a lot about adventurers."

"Don't underestimate an educated noble."

From Keeno's small narratives, the thirteen heroes sounded like lower level players or powerful beings of this world. As long as he left them alone, they probably will not disturb him.

"Powerful" did not describe Momon's strength – He was so much more.

After teasing Keeno for information for quite some time, Momon's hunger was temporarily satisfied.

A beautiful scene, refreshing scent, relaxing walk – His mind fled into nature.

"Keeno… when we met yesterday… what did you say was gone…? Also, where are your parents? Are they in that human city there? You keep mentioning nobles this, and elites that… where is your household?"

Keeno's tailing footsteps stopped. In response, Momon stopped as well but did not turn around.

"…"

"It's fine if you don't want to answer… But, I'm going to become an adventurer. I need to know what to do with you."

"Then…"

Keeno's crimson eyes flared in determination.

 **-XXX-**

 _Knock, knock, knock~_

The maid retracted her hand to wait for a response in the master's room.

"What is it?" signalled the okay for her to go inside.

The maid gently pushed the door open and entered the room. Her head in bow – perhaps due to respect – or fear. Either way, her face did not give it away.

There – on the luxurious couch – he sat with a pile of documents.

Marquis Ian Vermillion Fasris was standing in as the unofficial head of the family for a few years – ever since the previous head passed away due to an unfortunate incident, where the horse threw him off a cliff. Although such stories were a common occurrence by the word of mouth, the warhorse tamers of the Fasris family received their fair share of insult.

While everyone was still fixated on the tragic event, Ian Vermillion Fasris took initiative and quickly snatched away the title and the inheritance as the middle child. He then exiled his closest competitor – his elder brother, Emmot Vermillion Fasris – to the borderlines of Darkovia under the guise of having him manage the land.

 _Perhaps, bandits around those parts may even be nice enough to do my job._

The head position was only temporary, because any drastic turn of events, such as this, evokes suspicion. Thus far, his calculated actions and appearances have thwarted any conspiracies against him.

However, Emmot was simply unwilling to kick the bucket.

Over the years, while Ian was focused in covering his tracks, Ryle raised a shadow army. Nevertheless, Ian scoffed at the spy's report – In summary, the army was relatively impressive – for something made out of trashcans.

The King himself, remain uninterested in the squabble of the Fasris family.

The only dismay in Ian's life was that his appearance is starting to fail him – early bolding was not a popular trait among the ladies. Nonetheless, he had a solution – literally.

The maid produced a small bottle in her hands.

"Here's your daily medication, sir."

Ian took it with a grunt.

Though appearing calm, the maid's inner emotions were crashing tidal waves. She swallowed the thought of a one gold piece item disappearing right in front of her. Only the rich participated in such wasteful spending on an item that promoted hair growth. The only inner peace she had was the idea that her own family was probably already eaten by wild beasts – or died in some godforsaken corner of this world – _A wasted gold piece would not help them._

This was a perfect opportunity to slit his neck.

"How's your child, Maria?"

"She's just started her second year in magic studies, sir. Thank you for your concern."

"That's right. Your value is only in the innate talent of your child. You should be thankful… blessing your child with royal blood… my little brother's action had always been a shame in the family. Now our family is stained by the existence of dirt blood…"

Maria gritted her teeth and gave a deep bow.

"Ahh… I forgot … Send Suvia in from the waiting room."

Ian snorted as Maria silently exited the room.

Shortly afterwards, metal heels were heard were rhythmically sounding against the marble floor.

A knock on the door ensued.

"Enter."

"Understood."

The female paladin marched in and saluted him.

Ian did not bother moving – feasting his eyes while in his slouching position.

Suvia van der Stratton, a young woman that wore an expression that screamed dignity and independent woman. She had light brown eyes, and colour matching hair that extends to the shoulders in a ponytail. Her suntanned skin under the modest Valkyrie styled armour emphasised the results of harsh military days – Toned and just right.

"Formalities cut short… Miss Suvia, how is it…?"

Suvia nodded but did not speak up.

Ian narrowed his eyes – the calm before a storm.

Ian threw the papers at Suvia's face. The papers scattered.

"Tch… Useless… Every single one of you! What do you think I am paying you for!? Donations to the church my ass… You dare call yourself soldiers of God…!?"

Suvia remained calm and interjected loudly enough to assert authority.

"With all due respect, _sir_! Contact was lost with the escort troop requested 4 days back… the probability of being wiped out… is high."

"Pathetic… losing to low level monster…"

"Knights do not simply _lose_ to common monsters. What… _exactly_ … are we dealing with? If you are killing or capturing simple monsters… you could _easily_ hire adventurers… but for you to specifically to request the church… I don't think the _respectable_ head of the Fasris family does such things _unnecessarily_."

 _How bold,_ Ian thought. _Eloquently ending an argument with an insult and praise._

The idea of making a strong woman succumbs on her knees sent shivers down Ian's spine. However, he did not let the twisted side get the best of him. His mind was spinning up schemes on how much to reveal and how to lead the conversation.

After a moment of silence, Ian's mouth opened.

"You are… to capture the daughter of a vampire. No… should I say the daughter of a vampirette."

Suvia frowned at the word.

 _Vampirette_ … hunters of the dark, seductress of the night were some of the many titles associated to them. Any misstep can lead to a catastrophe – her own squadron included.

"Is that why you have requested female troops in particular? The gender to resist the potential charm…"

Ian smirked.

"Miss Suvia… I am a man of business… I hired you simply because you are relatively cheaper. Women will never be as strong as men… if you fail this mission, I don't have to empty my pockets anyways. Therefore, it is more logical to send a weak unit first… and if you complete the mission… I don't have to pay as much."

"You son of a…"

"Are you sure you should be taking that tone with me, Miss _Ex-Noble_? Regardless, the target is but a vulnerable and unaccompanied child. A recovery mission if you willed…"

Suvia's brow twitched at the comment – _How is his information so precise? Is probing deeper bad?_

"… Oh… before I forget…," added Ian. "That child definitely knows how to use magic… she has my blood after all…"

…

…

Marquis Ian Vermillion Fasris held the wine glass containing amber fluid. Delighted by the scent, he took a small sip – The usual ritual after his scheming for the day is done.

Through the transparent window in the high rise of the office, he watched small figures disappear into the distance.

Ian reminisced.

Many years ago Ian sent out a party to capture monsters for entertainment purposes in an upcoming festival. When the previous head was in power, he was stuck doing these mundane tasks. Unexpectedly, the party came back with the she-devil in a cage – weakened with silver and holy restraints.

Ian originally planned to make an exhibition, but the she-devil made an offer in return for her freedom – An agreement that formed fruit only recently.

Keeno was a by-product of Ian's experiment.

"Maybe… that concubine's child will finally turn into something useful."

Regardless, it really did not matter whether the mission was successful or not. If Keeno was recovered and results were as expected, he could nurture her into a weapon that will eventually gain him the throne.

Although failure is secondary, the compromised prize was not bad either. The main purpose of today's meeting was to place his clutches around Suvia – a woman he had his eye on – since the incident of her arresting him for disorderly conduct.

Ian grinned.

The conversation really went in Ian's favour. He was really impressed at how well he could act.

 _A toast to my acting!_

The mission information he sent out lacked detail with intention – It would have troubled him deeply if the paladin was a muscle-brained idiot and did not question the objective.

When Ian disclosed information of the intimate relationship between him and Keeno, it was a form of threat. Everyone knows what happened to people who knew too much. With some tinkering behind the scenes, the church will not hesitate to get rid of Suvia, as he had donated a large sum of money to the church.

Suvia was placed into a predicament – where her refusal of service would bring further shame to a family fallen from grace and her achievement would only benefit someone she hated.

Ian licked his lips to clear the taste of the tangy alcohol.

…

…

Upon leaving the mansion on her horse, Suvia was greeted by her companion and friend of many years, Sigurd. Sigurd looked similar to Suvia – so much so that they would almost be indistinguishable twins – if not for the slight differences in the uniform – and the left eye that was lost years ago.

"And…? How does the mission seem?" asked Siguard.

"…"

Suvia stayed quiet for a while, as their horses trotted along the paved road. It was not an uncommon pattern between these two to begin their exchange of words in such a way.

After a brief period, Suvia inhaled deeply and exhaled.

"Bad… very bad."

Sigurd raised her eye.

"Uwaaa… For you to take such a long silence and say something is 'very bad' is very unusual…"

"…"

It was true.

Suvia normally took a moment of silence to analyse the complexity of the mission. Then she normally used one of three words to describe it: fine, okays, bad. Although the descriptions were bland, Sigurd knew her friend too well. Fine was to be interpreted as straightforward and easy. Okays meant that there would be challenges, but could be overcome with ample hardship. Bad outlined the need for ample preparation and the risk of failure is still considerable.

To Sigurd's knowledge, a 'very bad' represented a few of possibilities: ample preparation was not possible, a chance of success was low even with preparation, or she had a gut feeling it would not go well.

Many mock 'gut feeling' as cowardice, animal instinct, and the like. However, having this as a sixth sense was a necessity for anyone fighting to survive. Being the captain, Suvia perhaps possessed the best honed sixth sense of her own squad. Sigurd experienced how frightening accurate Suvia's senses were during their many thick and thins together.

"Animal instincts…?" jokingly asked Sigurd.

"…"

The scene was that of a good friend bantering.

On the contrary, the two were very unlikely friends in the past.

Sigurd Badantel was from a common birth – neither poor nor rich – living with the minimal necessities. However, the life of manual work was taking its toll on her parents' bodies. Out of filial piety and out of love, she wanted to alleviate hers parent of the burden – _something nobles will never understand_ was her thinking – until she met Suvia in the military.

Suvia, majestic in her ways as a leader – _dictated by arrogance and ignorance_ was Sigurd's thought at first. When Suvia's family lost their honour, Sigurd could no longer accept the command of someone equal in status.

Sigurd acted rashly during a military drill.

Luckily, Suvia limited Sigurd's loss to just an eye – It could have been a whole lot worse. Depression trampled Sigurd, but Suvia was there to pull her through. With much rehabilitation and training, Sigurd was able to relearn the sword. No. Perhaps, it is because of her lost eye, her other senses have sharpened to the degree they were today.

Looking back, Sigurd would laugh at how immature and prideful she was. She may have turned to a darker side if it was not for Suvia.

Suvia remained the same through the years – still burdening herself with the guilt of the injury – she blamed herself for being unable to coordinate the team properly back then.

"If you're that worried…," Sigurd put a finger to her lips and continued to tease, "… maybe it's time you hand over your captain position… find a good man… settle down… have some kids, too?"

"Maybe… you should take your own advice!" retorted Suvia. Her iron mask finally melted. "Why are you here anyways? Don't you normally have station duty at this time? Besides, we normally disclose mission details at headquarters with the team."

"I'm here to grab my good friend for lunch… seeing as you might be a bit lonely with no date."

"For the last time… I don't need a man."

"Uwaa… I was talking about arranging a time and place to chill on our break. Besides, considering how masculine you ar…"

Suvia gave Sigurd a death threatening glare.

"… I, I mean…," fumbled Siguard. "I'm here because it's your turn to treat me."

"Treat you?" asked Suvia. "You haven't done anything."

"Hold that thought… because you are going to love what I have brought in at the station. I'm sensing we're in for a treat…"

Suvia rubbed her temples.

"Ahh… My head is pulsating from worry, but let's hear it anyways…"

"Well…," started Sigurd. "We've arrested an interesting duo… a twerp who looks like a vampire… and perhaps, the son of a noble in lavishing jet-black armour."

 **-XXX-**


	3. Chapter 2: Good idea

**Good idea**

 **-XXX-**

The leaves of the trees were weaved by golden threads of sunlight – rustling as the wind played their unique tune. Underneath nature's giant – a maiden gave a dark warrior her plea.

"L, let me journey with you…!"

The dark warrior turned around to look at the girl directly in her crimson eyes. His cape was majestically flickering in the wind.

Around them, fallen leaves and blades of grass were twirling in a chorus.

"… Is it a no..? As expected…"

The girl lowered her head and her line of sight met the ground.

To the girl's surprise, the dark warrior gently replied with "Not exactly, Keeno" and shook his head.

"Then… that means… with Momon… I can…!"

Momon placed one finger on his lips – a gesture for her to settle down and be quiet for a bit.

"But, you have to answer a small question and pass a little test for me first."

To which, Keeno gestured she was ready with a "Gulp" and a nod.

"Keeno… why do you trust me so much…? Why did you not doubt the possibility of me leaving you behind when I left to hunt breakfast this morning…?"

"Y… you are going to leave me behind?" Keeno asked with a confused expression and a meek voice.

Momon's non-existent brain ceased to process information temporarily.

 _S… such destructive power! Does mental resistance have no effect? Is this what Touch Me meant by protective instinct for children?_

"N… no I wasn't," denied Momon, quickly pulling himself together. "But, why did you believe I would return?"

"I don't know… but you came back anyways, didn't you…?" smiled Keeno brightly – So bright, it was almost blinding.

It was at this exact moment, Momon tried his hardest to hold back from activating the item [Total Maniac] in his inventory. It was really uncomfortable having his feelings forcibly suppressed.

"But…," Keeno briefly paused before continuing, "… It's probably because you give off a similar feeling to me."

"I see… anyways…"

Momon stabbed one greatsword into the ground with a quarter of the blade's length.

He rested his hands on the hilt – taking the pose of a knight.

"… This… is your test… "

"Don't tell me I have to pull that out!"

"Knock the sword down… that is your test. You can pull it out, use magic to dislodge it, break it, or use any other method in your strength. You boast of having the capacity of a silver plate adventurer… if you show me that strength… you can journey with me."

After explaining, Momon stepped aside. He crossed his arms, showing he was a strict examiner.

Keeno approached the sword.

"Anyone can dislodge this swor…," said Keeno, as she tried to push it over. "Hnnng…! It's so heavy!"

Lifting, pulling, punching, kicking – No matter what Keeno tried, the sword would not budge. She was like a small animal furious at work but getting nowhere at all.

 _Hmmm… I wonder if I should use [Memory Crystal] to take a few snapshots,_ thought Momon.

Keeno was not about to give up. She aimed her hand at the sword.

Momon let a "Ho~?" in interest. It's the first time he would see spells being used by others in this world.

Keeno activated "[Sand Wave]" in front of her. A spray of sand hit the sword.

The sand attack was followed by a splash of "[Water Slicer]", leaving the sword glistening in the sun.

Finally, a "[Breath of wind]" finished the polishing.

All of which, were first tier spells.

 _Is she even trying? Did I set the bar too high for a child?_

"I, I'm not done!"

Keeno continued to release 3 more first tier enhancement spells in conjunction.

"[Minor Magic Increase], [Minor Blessing: Earth], [Minor Blessing: Fire]"

A bubble of wind swirled around her.

Impressive – for this world at least – to know and simultaneously execute so many spells at a tender age.

First tier spells normally took 5 to 8 years to learn and master, depending on the caster's affinity to the element and the system. Second tier spells were for those with some innate talent in magic. Third tier spells were for the truly gifted.

Chosen heroes were rumoured to use up to the fifth tier.

Many spend their whole lives without learning ever learning a single spell.

One may argue that multiple spells can be studied simultaneously. That is true – but the mana stored in one's body in one day was limited.

In addition, the mental stress and fatigue felt by users when extracting from one's mana pool was no laughing matter.

"A low-level ground sorcerer… huh?" Momon muttered without Keeno hearing.

The spells existed in Yggdrasil – in the arcane system to be exact.

 _The spells exist but_ every one of the spells activated so far seemed like much lesser versions. If Momon had learned the same spells, even buffing up would cause chaos in a condensed area. If he were to use a low tier offensive spell, a significant portion of the land would be blown away.

 _It looks like she is about to use her trump card._

Beads rolled off Keeno's head and her breathing was heavy.

"[Crystal… Shard!]"

The tier two spell summoned a beautiful piece of shard her size.

Using the last of her energy, she launched it.

The shard flew straight and true.

However, the shard did not reach. On the verge of touching the sword, it shattered and dissipated into the glimmer of sunlight.

Keeno collapsed and hit the ground – if Momon was not there to catch her in his arms.

Momon walked Keeno – the sleeping princess – in his arms over to a large tree.

There – in the shade he placed her.

The lich revealed itself from underneath the armour.

"The ruins, the undead, the zombies… and you… a vampire. You talked as if you were living a human's life, yet… you sense me as being similar to you. Does that mean you have not realised you're an undead, a vampire… or does that mean you have recently become an undead…? Just what happened before I met you…?"

A luminous blue sphere appeared in the skeletal hand.

"… I intended to weaken you with the test… so you wouldn't struggle when I look into your memories… but I didn't think you would push yourself this far. Tch… Sorry…"

Taking advantage of innocent feelings really did not suit his taste.

His heart felt heavy.

…

…

"Keeno, here's some tea and cookies. Take a break from your studying. We should celebrate you learning your first tier two spell… I didn't learn my first tier two until twice your age. How about we head to town tomorrow and celebrate? Some toys… a play perhaps…?"

"Ah… Thank you, grandpa. It would be nice. Um… Have you seen, Felix?"

"No. I have not seen her since this morning. She's probably out chasing butterflies again. Cats do what cats do…"

The grandfather with a gentle face started sipping on his cup of tea.

Keeno only took a small sip before calling out "Grandpa?" again.

"Mmm…? What is it, sweetie?" her grandfather answered.

"What was my mother like?"

The old man looked out the window, perhaps, to hide his tender expressions.

"Marinna was… mmm… a gentle lass. She always acted with her feelings…"

The two continued to sip on their tea until the grandpa spoke up once more.

"… I wonder… if your aunt FeFe wants to come along tomorrow."

"Aunt FeFe?" said Keeno in surprise. "Aunt FeFe hates me… She always avoids me."

The grandfather chuckled and spilled his tea a little.

"Why are you laughing?" asked Keeno in confusion.

"Ahem," the grandfather cleared his throat. "She's just… a bit complicated. Your smooth black hair and red eyes… remind her too much of her sister. That being said… I don't know how she looks at herself in the mirror…"

"…"

"If only I could say the same about your father…"

"…"

"I'm sorry, sweetie," apologised the grandfather. "Looks like I've brought up a bit of a sour memory for us both."

Her grandfather rubbed her on the head before picking up the tea set and leaving.

From this point on, all that was seen was static – similar to terrible television reception.

Momon thought the questions would be solved if he continued to look through Keeno's memory. However – he was left with a horrible aftertaste after witnessing a stomach-churning scene.

When Keeno woke up, the town and all its glory were turned to dust or rubbles.

An undead mass was mindlessly limping around. They ignored Keeno, probably, from sensing they were similar entities.

There – within the many undead – she saw something of a resemblance to her aunt.

Keeno – scared of her aunt even when she was human – backed away.

As if it was a cruel written joke, she bumped into her cat – now an undead creature – gnawing on a hand with a ring that she recognised too well.

"Grandfather…"

Keeno fled the scene in a blur.

The next thing she knew, she bumped into an elder lich – The point where the memory investigation concluded.

Momon – while contemplating on what he had seen in Keeno's memory – sluggishly moved to where his sword stood.

The black suit of armour sounded in unison with each movement.

 _I can walk away from all this now. Why should I care for this child anyways?_ thought Momon _. Meeting her was just a coincidence._

Upon arriving in front of the sword, Momon extended his right hand.

There – with his hand resting on the sword – an inestimable amount of time wisped past

The dark warrior glanced at the maiden – his sleeping princess – and murmured, "This… displeases me."

He pushed the sword over and it sounded against the grass with a "thud".

He lied to himself but his heart was light.

…

…

The position of the sun and sky yawned dusk.

Keeno woke and sat up scanned the scenery before her – Her heart sank.

She scanned the scenery before her – Her heart sank.

"He left me too… because I failed the test… sniff… sniff…"

She curled up into a small ball and hugged her legs.

Just as Keeno was about to ball her eyes out, Momon appeared from behind the tree where she was sitting.

"Dinner is served," said Momon.

"I, I thought I failed…," snivelled Keeno, as she looked up at him with a helpless expression.

"…"

Momon silently pointed and directed her eyes to where the sword fell. In response, Keeno's eye widened.

Keeno looked at Momon – incomplete words tumbled out of her.

"… So… that means… I can!"

"…"

Momon nodded.

Keeno was still in a state of disbelief. Momon, however, did not pick up this cue.

Without further delay, Momon presented Keeno her portion of dinner on a plate – not that he needed any for himself but he did not want it to become cold.

"Here's your dinner, Keeno. Keeno…?"

"…"

 _Does she hate this weird grilled bird… lizard thing that much?_ wondered Momon. _Maybe I should've changed to something else for dinner tonight._

Momon squatted to Keeno's height to erase his intimidating appearance. He asked, "Keeno? Should I remake this…?"

"No! It's okay," said Keeno, as she hastily grabbed the plate. "I'll eat it! I'm starving anyways."

"Oi. Here's your fork and… uhh… whatever."

Momon put the unused eating utensils away. He nervously watched Keeno bite, chew, and swallow.

"How is the food…?" asked Momon.

"Horrible!" replied Keeno in a full smile.

 **-XXX-**

…

[ Eth-Lumina ]

\

/

l

Mountains _ - _ [ Teh Erebus ] _ - _ Mountains

/

\\_~-

_/

L_ [ Teh Etherian ] (Destroyed town)

…

Teh Erebus was a small and clean town situated on the city borders of Eth-Lumina and Etherian, South of Arwintar. The town was surrounded by miles of flatlands, followed by harsh mountainous ranges lining both the eastern and westerns sides. Although having a town in the open seemed counterintuitive, the plains themselves only grew grass under the lazy sun.

The establishment of the town was intended as a place for the rich to send their children to keep them from the city's corruption. Therefore, the town relied on supply from the two cities and small surrounding villages to sustain itself. A lot of money was invested into developing and maintain the supply routes safe from bandits and monsters. Then again – adventurers were only hired to do some easy monster extermination and military personnel only waited for their next drink.

Since it was a town for the rich to the semi-rich, the human population exceeds no more than 2000 at maximum. It was a situation where everybody knew almost everyone – and if somebody mentioned someone, that person was probably related in some way.

Momon felt quite disheartened after hearing Keeno's description, as he wanted to jump straight into action-packed adventures. However, such adventure requests were not given to those without fame.

 _I need hard requests to gain fame… but to gain fame I need hard requests,_ Momon thought with a sigh. It was the same conundrum where you needed experience for a job, but for the job, you needed sufficient experience. Nevertheless, he _had to start somewhere_ – so he decided to use the time in this town to learn common knowledge of this world.

 _Maybe I can get a book for dummies or something…_

Momon's hope came crashing down after looking at the signs – _I can't read_.

When people spoke, the words did not fit the shape of their mouths. He had not noticed it until now, because Keeno was short, so he could not see her mouth most of the time. It was if everyone had eaten translation jelly or something.

Keeno only replied with a "Huh…? Of course! Isn't it common sense?" when he asked her about it.

Walking through the town square, the duo – Momon and Keeno – stuck out like a sore thumb. Momon was holding Keeno's hand because Bukubukuchagama once said her little brother had a tendency to wander off when he was small.

Keeno was resistant at first and tried to escape, which Momon took as confirmation to Bukubukuchagama's words and held her even closer by the hand.

"Embarrassing… so embarrassing…," muttered Keeno, as she hid her head with the hood.

Momon felt like a proud father showing off his daughter when he heard people whisper things like "Look at them" and "His child?"

Only when he started hearing things like "Strange clothing", "Uwaaa… Spoils of war?" and "Should we report this?" did he let go of Keeno's hand.

Finally, they arrived at the adventurer's guild.

The adventurer's guild was a place to register as an adventurer. Although there were no strict restrictions on who could or could not become one, it was important for the receptionist to recognise important individuals.

The two approached the desk of the empty guild.

Keeno hopped and hanged from Momon's left shoulder because the reception desk was too high for her.

"Oi, Keeno," whispered Momon. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

She replied assertively into his ear, "Aren't you the one who held my hand and dragged me along? Be quiet and play along!"

Satoru Suzuki felt beads of sweat running down his forehead – It was a similar feeling to having an interview all over again. Thankfully, the intense feeling was suppressed to a tolerable level.

The adventure's guild receptionist held her iconic smile – a frozen and cold smile.

"Ahem…," Momon cleared his throat. "Ah… Um… Yes, we are applying to be adventurers. I am her guardian…"

 _We are absolutely suspicious!_ thought Momon.

He was right.

The receptionist fiddled with something beneath her desk, and before Momon and Keeno reacted, swords and spears were being pointed at them from every direction. It was not that they could not react, they just did not bother.

A security group blockaded every exit.

"Ohhh~ I'm impressed at the coordination," commented Keeno in a carefree manner.

 _Really… ?_ thought Momon. If he compared the performance from his experience of voluntary military service in Japan, it was sub-average at best. Nevertheless, he gave kudos for manoeuvring the number of weapons in an awkward space.

A female paladin with an eye patch approached them – presumably, the leader of this ragtag looking unit.

"Hmph… Looking from your armour… you probably got your rich daddy to buy it for you or something. But… you've got guts… to bring your little vampire pet here…"

"I'm not his pet!" fumed Keeno.

Momon was indifferent.

He understood he could easily escape if he wanted to. However, rather than kicking up a storm, it was better to play along. This was because if he had fame in a good way, perhaps, by showing he was a good citizen, he would receive quests he desired.

"I understand… I won't resist."

"Run if you will, but… You will never be able to get past me…! Eh!?"

Even Keeno gasp "Huh…?" in surprise.

"I repeat… I won't resist."

"Aren't you at least going to try to escape like the usual…?"

"Why?"

"Because… if you are a noble… we _strongly encourage_ the donation of a large sum of money for upsetting public disorder…"

"So… let's not delay things and take me in… youth is being wasted away, right? Miss Captain?"

…

…

"What a charming gentleman… not Mrs but Miss. Youth… and Captain… Ah… words with a nice ring."

"You want me to treat you to lunch because of that…?"

Suvie stared at Sigurd as if she was a woman of lost cause.

"Anyways… jokes aside…," Sigurd straightened herself before continuing, "… the girl is not a vampire… the Sword Saint once said… vampires don't walk around in the sun… But, I get the feeling I've seen her somewhere before…"

"A look alike is just a look alike… the question comes to the man. It would be bad if the armour was hiding a vampire inside."

Vampires were monsters with humanoid forms. They lured unsuspecting humans with their charm and feasted on their blood. The Sword Saint – one of the thirteen – once stated, "Vampires are weak to sunlight, silver, and holy water. They die if you drive a stake through their heart and decapitate their head. Never let them bite you… or you will turn into one of them."

Then again – apart from cockroaches – what kind of abomination would not die if that happened to them?

Suvia and Sigurd were the only two in town with enough mental training to resist charm. However, training did not ensure full resistance. Some monsters' were said to surpass human's tier two [Charm] spell with their passive abilities alone.

On the same hand, they did not have any firsthand experience with real vampires, so they did not really know what to expect.

Sigurd gave a nod.

"Exactly… We have not told him to take off the helmet, yet. It would be a problem if he charmed me."

Once they reached the station, they both proceeded smoothly and quickly in their professional soldier mode.

Inside the interrogation room, the man in lavishing jet-black armour and the little girl sat in their respective places.

Keeno was happily humming away while her swinging legs as they did not reach the ground.

Momon sat with a looming presence. He was disappointed – but more of a satisfied disappointment.

 _Uwah… Punitto Moe was right._

He had once heard Punitto Moe describe the blandness of historical interrogation rooms. The room they were currently in fitted the description perfectly. He now understood Yggdrasil's portrayals were over-exaggerated ones.

Still – he could not quite quench the desire to see something interesting.

He took a deep breath in – and then out, deactivating the [Despair Aura] one he unconsciously triggered.

"Something wrong?" asked Keeno glancing at Momon with curiosity.

"No, it's nothing," replied Momon.

 _Hmmm… [Despair Aura] is not affecting her but she senses it? Is it because she is undead, or perhaps…,_ thought Momon. _Then why did she feel the effects in her sleep a while back? Regardless, looks like we have company._

Sigurd entered the room first to do the questioning while Suvia would wait outside to assess the situation. They were assuming charm would be as half as strong if the target only had one eye.

"A'ight. Sorry for the wait, Momon. Please, remove your helmet so I can identify you."

Momon tinkered with his helmet a bit and removed it – revealing his skeletal head and sending everyone into disarray – if not for the illusion spell he placed beforehand.

He chose his original Japanese look because it was not particularly good or bad looking. It gave him a reason to keep his helmet on by saying "so people would not take advantage of the fact he was not from around".

Personally, he was comfortable with it.

However – "What's with that face of disappointment, Keeno!?" he wanted to shout.

 _Kids really don't hold back, huh?_ thought Momon. The evaluation of his looks fell by a few grades.

Keeno remained quiet while the two adults had their discussion.

"Mmm… I see your situation…," concluded Sigurd.

"Yes… it is quite embarrassing… things were lost during travel due to unforeseen circumstances," replied Momon.

"So… this child is?"

"I found her during my travel… escaping from monsters."

Momon did not tell a lie. On the other hand, he did not tell the whole truth.

Regardless, Sigurd easily accepted the stories as they were common among adventurers. Many adventure stories did not start, and even less, end with glory.

Keeno would be considered one of the lucky ones – To be taken in and looked after by another was a rare occurrence. A rare occurrence in a world where monsters were enemies of humans, demi-humans were enemies of humans, and humans were enemies of other humans.

If Momon had not found Keeno, there was a high probability she would have ended in trade. Her rare features would have fetched quite the bargain.

"From the looks of it… you are from far, far south. It also appears that's the reason why your behaviour is strange… I mean to us…"

Momon nodded to show no offense was taken.

Sulvia continued speaking.

"… Well… you are free to go. Just take this paper evidence back to the Adventurer Guild's receptionist to clear things up tomorrow morning… she was scared out of her wits because the child looked like a vampire… and you had a scary appearance. Besides, there's no adventure at this time of day."

Momon put his helmet back on.

"By the way," added Suvia. "Where are you sleeping tonight?"

Momon explained he was going to camp out again with Keeno as he had no money.

No. That's not quite correct. Despite his inventory being maxed out, he did not want to use the Yggdrasil coins to avoid drawing attention. He had not ruled out the possibility of other players wanting to cause malice.

He had experienced this one too many times in the past as Satoru Suzuki. Business and the adult world were both cold and cruel places.

"That's not going to do for a little girl. Here's one silver coin for lodging and food over the week," said Sigurd, as she placed it on the table. "Remember to return it, okay?"

"You really don't have to… but thank you very much," said Momon while giving a quick bow of respect. "I'll return it to you with interest."

Sigurd left the room.

"Ho~? Quite the snake, aren't you…? To test him such a way and to not evoke suspicion," complimented Suvia.

"That's right," said Sigurd. "I'll use this debt to turn him into my husband."

Suvia ignored her friend's joke.

"It looks like they both are not vampires, seeing as they are so carefreely handling your silver coin. Even idiots treat lethal objects with care."

"This is why I insisted you pay for my lunch… Adventurers are a rough lot… What you lend out, you don't get back."

Just as Suvia was about to turn away, she caught a closer glimpse of Keeno's face.

"She is…"

"What's wrong, Suvia?"

"This just might work… I'll explain to you the details of our meeting later tonight. Send them to a place where we can easily track their movements…"

"Eh?"

 **…**

 **…**

Yesterday the guild was like an empty shell when Momon and Keeno arrived, but today, the guild was rowdy and brimming with life.

In the early morning, many people gathered inside the main hall to share information and form teams for the day.

When Momon and Keeno entered the guild everyone became quiet, thinking they were high ranked adventurer from his luxurious armour. However – when they saw the copper plates hanging around the necks, they started laughing their heads off.

"Oi! Rich boy! This ain't the place for ya."

"Did yer daddy by that?"

"Oh no! I can't let my precious get hurt! Here's a suit of armour."

They were simply a jealous bunch.

Momon and Keeno filtered out their voices because they were much too focused on the objective in front of him.

 _I. Can't. Read,_ concluded Momon, as he stared blankly at the request board.

It was not that he forgot about the problem of not being able to read – he simply decided to kick the can down the road and he hoped he would somehow make it through. This decision was very uncharacteristic of him but Keeno refused to let him leave her side last night – When Keeno fell asleep holding onto his hand, all chance was lost.

Although he had [Translation Glasses] in his inventory, he really did not want to use it – What would people say to a warrior with vision impairment at this reading distance?

He was starting to regret his decision.

"What do you think, Keeno?" Momon asked, hoping she would randomly read something out loud on the board to guide him.

Keeno, who clinging over his left shoulder to look at the board, replied, "I don't know. They all look interesting."

 _Take a hint! I can't read your language, remember? Or, are you trying to get revenge for yesterday?_

 _What do I do?_ pondered Momon. _Ahh… Hit or miss!_

He grabbed a random notice on the board.

"Ah! Good choice," said Keeno.

"Eh?"

He did not want to state his ignorance outright.

"Remember the dead horned-goblin, gnolls, and orcs…?" asked Keeno.

Momon nodded.

"… Well, I took the multiple pieces of items because I figured it would be useful. I read in a book that it was required for medicine creation."

Keeno produced a familiar horn and a few other articles from a leather pouch she was carrying.

"Ah… I see… Good job," said Momon. He rubbed Keeno's head while they were making their way to the reception counter.

 _Good job, Keeno!_

Everyone who understood what Keeno had in her hands and pouch was silenced by astonishment.

"No way, right?"

"With just a shabby party of two?"

Keeno had a proud smile on her face.

Momon was conflicted.

He was happy for a quest to be quickly finished but he felt that he made a huge blunder for not harvesting the valuables. Furthermore, he felt he was out-staged by Keeno after all that talk about the strength of a silver plate.

Having said that, his brooding was cut short when the receptionist dropped the final bomb.

"I'm sorry but I cannot allow you to claim the reward for this quest."

"Eh…? Why…?" whined Keeno in surprise, taking the words right out of Momon's mouth.

"Well… It's the rule. This is a gold plate quest. I won't question how two completed it but it normally requires 6 at the very least…"

"And, the problem?" asked Momon. "We already have the items."

The receptionist did not lose her nice and professional demeanour but her tone of voice said otherwise.

"There is _no_ way to score and confirm your _level of skill_ from this. All I know is that this stuff could be _scavenged or bought_. However, you can still trade this to the original requester personally."

Upon hearing this, the adventurers who were unable to swallow their pride continued to make their needless taunts.

 _Uwahh… She's totally looking down on us! There's no backing down now._

Momon faked a sigh.

"Annoying and stupid rule. This little girl beside me here…," he said, pointing at Keeno, "… knows tier two spell."

The receptionist's jaw dropped. She used her hands to cover her mouth mumbling, "Impossible. At such an age?"

The adventurers became silent again and stared.

Keeno became embarrassed. She finally realised they had been in the centre of attention this whole time.

"And, I!" proclaimed Momon. "I have a much greater strength."

"Good!" interrupted a woman with the familiar eye patch. "Because my captain needs all the strength here to do some undead extermination."

 **-XXX-**


	4. Chapter 3: Roots

**Roots**

 **-XXX-**

There were two days of preparation given to gather supplies and materials needed for the expedition to the destroyed town, Teh Etherian. The information in the report highlighted the town was in ruins and overran with various types of undead creatures roughly five to six days ago.

Momon decided this expedition would be a good chance to showcase. With the sheer amount of people participating as potential witnesses, no one would be able to doubt his abilities.

The faster he ascended the adventurer ranks and the more fame he amassed, the more favourable the quests he could net.

 _Perhaps,_ he thought. _Perhaps, if my friends were in this world too, they may even hear and recognise my name._

However – this could all just be a far-fetched dream, as the messages he sent out has had no response.

The task seemed straightforward enough, as undead creatures were brainless and uncoordinated without a master. From the reports, the horde did not seem to follow a distinct pattern. On the other hand, this was not an indication to rule out the presence of a mastermind behind it all.

The surface could be very different to what lurked beneath – As a necromancer, a guild leader, and a skilled PK-er, Momonga knew this far too well. There were too many ifs, ands, and buts to make a solid conclusion. So, last night, he decided to summon a few wraiths to scout the situation.

He teleported to a nearby cemetery in his caster attire because he simply thought it suited the atmosphere.

There were no whole buried bodies, as the people of Teh Erebus ceremonially cremated the dead. The ashes were buried in a luxurious preservation jar.

It costs a fortune to afford this kind of burial. It costs a further fortune to maintain, as priests would come, clean, and bless the graves. The showy business was redundant but it was a show of face for the wealthy.

 _What kind of wraiths do I want?_

Momonga could summon three kinds of level 30 wraiths: Shadows, Prophet of Deaths, and Phantom Assassins. Although all three types had poor attack strength, low defence, and minimal health points, the wraiths were by no means neglectable during a dynamic battle.

Shadows, as the name implied, looked like a moving shadow. They specialised in gathering information. In PvP battles, important AOE skills were often used to get rid of Shadows to prevent opponents gaining vital information.

Prophet of Deaths were ghostly visages holding onto grimoires. They placed nasty curses onto unsuspecting targets. The curses slowly grinded and wore the targets out. Hence, the name was given.

Phantom Assassins, on the other hand, were a joke by the developers. If one were to think of sexy female spies, Phantom Assassins would fit the image perfectly. They basically had lesser versions of Shadows' information gathering skills and fought close to a level 25 thief.

The high-level invisibility that all wraiths had were often a pain to deal with.

 _I can't believe this is the day where Phantom Assassins are actually needed._

Phantom Assassins did not fit any good strategies in the past, as they did not particularly excel in any field. However, right now, they were chosen for scouting purposes, as well as to estimate the level of this world's residents should combat become necessary.

To his surprise, the seven tombs were cracked and the jars were emptied upon summoning seven wraiths. Even more surprisingly, these wraiths have not terminated mental link with him, which meant they have not timed out or been destroyed, yet.

It seemed that there could be quite the disparity when using spells in this world and Yggdrasil.

 _I wanted to experiment more… if only I didn't have to escape from the scene of the crime. I hope I have not left any evidence behind._

"Hey, Momon. Are we are leaving after today?"

Keeno yawned – It was still early in the morning.

Momon nodded to answer Keeno's question as he gazed at some adventures loading the carts outside the town's stone gates.

"Keeno…"

"Hm…?"

"Do you want to cancel training today? Since we are leaving tomorrow, would you like to relax for the day?"

Keeno's sudden burst of energy with a "Would I ever!?" made his non-existent heart skip a beat.

 _Uwah… If you have this much vitality, maybe we shouldn't have skipped_.

In a small area outside town, he had been training Keeno to utilise her spells effectively to fight real combat by aiming spells at him.

Keeno was reluctant at first to aim spells at a person, but she realised there was no way she would hit him after the first few tries. She had very poor accuracy on moving targets and was poorer at casting them on the move. However, this was expected, as she had only practised while being stationary.

Momon felt nostalgic while training Keeno.

It reminded him of when he first hit level 8 in Yggdrasil – The so-called "Tutorial Stage" was over. The scope of both PvE and PvP rapidly expanded, becoming increasingly complex.

"So… where do you want to go?"

He was never the first one to insist any suggestions even in his days as a guild leader.

"Umm… How about we go trade in the stuff in the pouch… so we can pay back the money from the aunty?"

A voice exclaimed "Aunty!?" from behind, which made Keeno flinch with an "Eek!"

Momon's fake heart did not take it too well either.

Both of them turned around.

 _Speak of the devil…_

"Look here twerp! I'm not an aunt, yet, okay?"

Keeno gave a small nod.

"I said, okay!?" repeated the woman in a familiar eye patch.

Keeno nodded harder.

"Miss Sigurd, nice to see you," greeted Momon. He did not think it was strange to see her here as she was one of the coordinators for the expedition.

"Ah… yes. You are probably trading it to the pharmacist. I'll take you to them."

"You really don't have to."

Momon humbly tried to refuse Sigurd.

 _Am… am I being suspected…? What kind of excuse should I use if she finds out?_ thought Momon. _I wasn't in my magic armour... so I don't think I left footprints that are traceable._

"Yea, yea. Sure, sure," said Sigurd, as she forcefully snatched the pouch from Keeno and fluffed around in it. "But, do you know how much these items are worth? For example… this pendant."

Sigurd showed him the small pendant.

"I, I don't."

"Well, since the chain on it is gone, it might be worth…"

"Wah! That's mine!" yelled Keeno, as she snatched it away. "Muu… It's something grandpa left me. You just can't go pawning it."

In the end, Sigurd accompanied them and explained to them the price of each.

He thought the paladin wanted her money back, but she disappeared during the heat of trade with the pharmacist.

…

…

It was high noon.

Suvia calmly approached Sigurd standing in the shadows of the courtyard tree.

"What's the meaning of this, Sigurd? We are busy preparing things and here you are…"

"Oh~! Madam Captain, care to guess?"

Suvia was not particularly fond of playing guessing games with her, so she followed Sigurd's eyes to the answer.

There was a cheering crowd in the middle of the courtyard.

Two people were circled by the crowd – A person in luxurious jet-black armour and a person in lightweight armour.

Suvia recognised the insignia on the lightweight armour's pauldron – It was an insignia indicating that he was a magic swordsman.

"I think his name was…," Suvia ran through her memory bank before finding, "Mark Volvo…"

"Yep," confirm Sigurd. "One of your hard-core idiot followers."

Mark Volvo, a young man who had managed to obtain the prestigious title Magic Swordsman in his mid-twenties. It was an outstanding achievement to be able to use magic and, somewhat, studied in the ways of the sword at the age.

He only knew only one spell, [Spark]. The currents dazzled the enemies' eyes and added paralysis effect to the blade. His equipment suggested that he uses speed to gain an advantage.

If it was not for his flirtatious side and cringe-worthy acting, his naturally good looks would be popular among the ladies.

Suvia frowned.

"One of your little setup games, again?"

"Bingo~ If the one in dark armour wins, it's double payday for me."

Suvia wanted to rebut this comment from Sigurd.

Suvia wanted to but did not.

Sigurd often had to take on the role of the Evil Queen in brewing up plans. As much as Suvia hated Sigurd's cunning side, she also admired it.

Sigurd shared a similar respect for Suvia's decisions. In fact, nobody questioned Suvia, knowing that she would always consider every route and best route possible.

Folding her arms, Sigurd leant against the tree in boredom, hoping the fight would start soon.

Suvia took a breath and turned her sight towards the two at the centre of the crowd.

"And, if the idiot wins?"

Sigurd put a finger on her lips.

"I may have promised him a potential meeting from his beloved captain… to his room tonight. You don't like blond hair and blue eyes with a bit of a wild?"

"You…"

"Just watch the show. Besides…," Sigurd's voice petered. "It's to confirm my suspicion… you feel it too, don't you?"

Suvia nodded in response.

The story told by the man in jet-black armour, Momon, was common. It was common but there were major dubious coincidences and inconsistencies.

Sigurd continued.

"Adventuring is normally a profession for people low in education and poor birth… but seeing how that man is able to calculate high values so easily… I don't think that is the case."

"How did you assess him?"

"Well, we had a nice little date to the pharmacy. He did not let the pharmacist slip a single coin past him with an eloquent tongue."

"…"

It was a well-known fact that the pharmacist of this town was very sly and underpaid for goods. However, for a fight to not break out when realising he was being ripped off was extremely rare for an uneducated adventurer.

"More importantly… the destroyed town, the request of the Marquis, the little girl, the appearance of that man… and the pressure he gives off time-to-time…," Sigurd cut her own talk short, "Looks like they are starting…"

…

…

Brawls between adventurers were not uncommon. Most of the time, it was just easier to let them solve their differences by fighting it out, provided that no one dies.

People expected Suvia or Sigurd to step in if things got nasty. Therefore, no one thought it was strange for them to be spectating from a distance.

Almost no one thought it was strange.

 _Oi! Why are you two just standing there and watching!?_ thought Momon. _That damned pharmacist, too! You should be arresting him!_

Satoru Suzuki had enough similar encounters in his life. Although it was all too easy for him to receive the correct payment, it left him very salty from digging up old and unwanted memories.

To top it all off, the person in front of him randomly challenged him to a duel out of nowhere to prove his love for someone or something.

The people around were no better at alleviating the situation either. No. Quite the opposite – The crowd was thirsty for a show.

Momon felt like he was a victim here of someone's game.

The tension was at an all-time high since the request for an expedition crew. The information revealed to everyone was truly unnerving. For all they knew, they could be dealing with a catastrophe that would soon rain across the land, similar to the legends of the Eight Greed Kings.

What kind of power and evil was involved in turning a town of 3000 into undead?

A common belief was that undead would spawn more powerful undead. To prevent the spawn of more undead, the mission was to destroy as many undead as possible and as soon as possible. This was a crucial task, as undead were known to follow the scent of the living. It would be disastrous if the undead swarmed to this town en masses, guided by the smell in the winds.

It was a simple containment mission – That said, most of the gathered adventurers wanted to turn away. However, they were not going to drop their pride and be outdone by newbies if it turned out to be an easy mission.

The eagerness for a sparring match was probably a way to relieve the stress – _or maybe a welcoming ceremony?_

Momon was originally quite worried about Keeno as she had a traumatic experience in town but – "Oi! Why are you so sparkly eyed!" he wanted to shout – he was now worried about leading her down the wrong track.

It was Keeno's first time experiencing this kind of atmosphere.

Upon noticing him looking in her direction, Keeno gave a wave and a smile from above some crates a far.

"Aim for his face! Give it to 'em good!" shouted one of the rude adventurers from yesterday. "I hate rich boys but I hate 'em pretty boys more!"

He must be really displeased how good looking the magic swordsman looked.

Momon took a closer look at the – dazzling blue eyes, nice teeth, perfect chin – great overall facial features.

For the record, Momon did not swing that way and did not take joy in the idea of beating up people to increase fame.

Momon held out his arms as if saying "Come at me!"

"Uwaa… what a bold stance," one spectator commented.

"I will kill you for looking down on me! Wild…"

The magic swordsman made a small cut on his index finger and ran it across the sleek blade of the short double-edged sword.

Blood symbols – that did not fit any of Momonga's memories from Yggdrasil – appeared. The patterns were as beautiful as rumours said.

"He's going to use his trump card right at the beginning?" gasped someone in the crowd.

"The idiot is serious?" added another.

"… Magic [Sparks]. Behold the pride of my family for four generations… Prepare yourself!"

Fast – very fast in the eyes of the spectators. The gap closed between the two in a near instant.

 _It's over,_ but not in the way the audience expected.

"N-no way… at that speed…"

"H-he caught his arm with one hand? So easily…?"

The electric blade had merely begun its arc before a gauntlet seized its holder by the wrist in mid-flight.

The man in jet-black armour mumbled.

"Interesting magic… But, long preparatory time and obvious stances… Maybe it's because the user is unskilled… I want to know more… Maybe next time…"

"Wah…? What are you mumbling about?"

The other black gauntlet formed a fist.

"Clench your teeth… I'm going in dry… to a restaurant with Keeno later. I don't want to clean my armour."

Stiff and hard – The grip was impossible to break free.

The black armoured man seemed more than twice the size he was at the beginning.

A visage of death – about to cause bodily destruction – appeared in front of the young swordsman.

"Eep! Please be gentle… Not the face!"

Momon took a brief glance at Keeno, who was caught up in the action and was throwing cute punches. Her expression was in a ":3" shape while conveying the message.

 _Cruel! Children are so cruel! This is definitely not the right way to raise them!_ thought Momon. So, he gave a swift chop to the back of the neck to knock the swordsman out with the least pain possible.

The bundle of meat fell to the ground.

If god was merciful, he would remain unconscious until someone was kind enough to share him a recovery potion. That someone, though, was definitely not Momon.

Dusting his hands clean, Momon turned his back and started walking away. The crowd parted like the red sea.

Keeno jumped down from the crates to join him.

"It was a close match," he lied. "If the electric sword just grazed my armour, I would've lost."

The swordsman was slow, even in comparison to Keeno's running speed.

"No way…"

"This is what I meant when I said you should always get some information on your opponents…"

He was rambling from his own experience.

Keeno whined, "Eh…? Can't I just hit them and run if they are too strong?"

"No! You must never be like that muscle-head teacher!" he blurted out.

"Muscle… head… teacher…?" repeated Keeno with her face full of confusion as she looked at Momon. If you looked carefully, you could almost see a "?" coming out of her head.

To quickly change the topic, he asked, "What if you can't run away?"

"You'll save me… won't you?" she replied with a worried look.

Momon gave up and sighed a "Yes."

"By the way… who's this teacher?"

"Hmm… She was a teacher who often forgot important details on her endeavours… so we often had to go and save her from trouble. It's a tale from a long, long ago… I'll tell you about it over lunch."

 **-XXX-**

The look of demise was on Marquis Ian Vermillion Fasris' face, as he took a tumble backwards into the wall and sagged to the ground.

Although the office was dim with the evening sun coming through the window, Ian saw his assaulter well.

"Ma, Mar… Maria… Why? Did you not pledge yourself to serve our family?"

A cough of blood – though insignificant when compared to the fruit knife in his stomach – followed shortly.

Perhaps, he may have enough strength to talk and remain conscious for another 10 minutes. From the rate of blood loss, it would probably take half an hour for him to die.

Maria trembled in tears and horror at what she had done.

"Please understand… I, I, I… cannot bear to see you lead everything you built to ruins. This family… your own brothers… now... even your own daughter..."

Ian grunted in pain.

She kneeled down beside him and uttered, "Reinheart" in sorrow.

Ian weakly shifted his gaze to meet Maria's. The dull green eyes – that was about to be robbed of life – sent shivers down Maria's spine.

"T-that nickname name… you gave me," he swallowed his own blood before continuing softly, "… I've abandoned long ago."

Maria nodded. No words were needed.

She knew – she knew it far too well.

However – hearing those words still made her lightly sob.

Maria dedicated herself to serving the Fasris family when she was saved by the previous head. Being similar aged kids of the time, Maria and Ian befriended each other quickly.

As luck would have it, Maria was assigned to Ian's care.

Maria murmured "Reinheart" a second time as she reminisced those days.

Despite having a fragile body in those days, Ian acted for the people, behalf of the people, and the sake of the people.

His heart was pure; he did not resort to underhanded trickery for his own sake; he did not sacrifice others for himself.

 _If Ian was to choose between a lesser evil and a greater evil back then... the Ian I knew... would choose neither. He would find another choice..._

"Maria… Your eyes, your voice, your hair… I loved you…"

But, fate had it cruel.

Slow at realising his love and constricted to the duties as the second child, Maria ended up with his brother.

 _It was fine_ , he thought at the time. However, little did he know, he became a little crueller, a little colder, and a little more uncaring for the world around him.

"Where did it all go so wrong? If Mistress Marinna was still here… would things have ended the same…?"

Her heart ached with the question – literally.

"W-wha…?"

Maria moved her hand to her chest where a thin crystal lance had pierced her from behind. Her eyes widened in confusion as she collapsed weakly to the ground in the foetal position.

A familiar voice spoke from the same direction of the lance.

"Don't you dare speak ill of Marianna."

"Ian! But how!?" she wanted to shout but could not. Her lung was punctured and she was struggling to breath – Death was to come by drowning in one's own blood.

The Ian in front of her disintegrated into a pile of soil and water.

A sound of "cla-clak" was heard as the fruit knife bounced to a stop on the ground.

It was the result of illusionary and ground magic.

Ian used ground-based magic to make a doll and disguised it as himself using an illusion.

It explained why the knife went in so easily.

Maria – who was panicking – did not take notice the subtle feeling of the knife going into the substance.

"Tsk, tsk… Maria, Maria, Maria… I did not plan for you to go in such an _unpleasant_ way. Well, how did you enjoy my voice acting?"

Ian walked over to pick up the fruit knife and started polishing it his handkerchief. He paced in a circle around her body.

Maria trembled; the cold was blanketing her.

"Maria…," began Ian as he casually paced in front of her. "I never understood why you stayed by my side…"

"…"

"Is it… because my younger brother is starting to shows the same signs of my elder brother…? It would explain if you can't handle his inconsistent rambling…"

"…"

"Or is it… because you really believed it is a maid's duty to lead her master down the correct path? But, how can someone who's _just a feeble and powerless maid_ do that?"

 _I've failed_ , thought Maria _. I've failed the Ian I promised back then. And, I've failed you, Mistress Marianna._

"Let me tell you this now," said Ian as he held her by the hair. "I decide on my own path. Whatever it is… consider me relieving you of your duties."

Maria felt the steel against her neck. The sensation of cold and pain ceased to exist shortly.

A shadowy figure emerged from behind Ian.

"HOw CoMPaSsIoNaTe… To ReLiEve HEr Of SufFErINg."

Ian did not turn around.

"What do you want, Jehivn?"

"I'm CheCkiNg oN yoUr MoNthLY pRogReSs On BehaLf oF my SuPreMe BeiNgs."

Jehivn's voice was coarse and broken – Impossible to tell if male or female.

The "Supreme Beings" spoken by the shadow refers to the eight figures who appeared over 300 years ago and ruled the land with absolute power for 50 years. However – from the songs sung by bards – it seemed that they destroyed themselves due to internal conflicts.

It was well-known that degeneracy from within leads to the downfall of all.

The Platinum Dragon Lord – being gifted with the ability to fly – took up residence in their floating castle. It is said that the dragon was guarding the treasure to prevent misuse, but perhaps, like all other dragons, it just wanted to bathe itself in treasure.

Ian wanted to probe Jehivn for information but it was dangerous – extremely dangerous. He sensed it in every fibre of his being.

Ian prided himself with fact he was probably on par with the thirteen heroes in terms of magical might but Jehivn was much, much stronger than he was.

He walked over to his office desk to take a swig of an amber liquid. He did not bother to face the shadow, for he knew, the only choice was to forfeit his life if the shadow desired it.

Ian revealed his left arm. The veins were replaced with vines and tangles.

"It is… splendid. I feel the energy that I had when I was young. I feel as if the Zy'tl seed will soon give me enough mana to use fourth tier spells."

"HuMaN, YouR WiLLingNeSS to SaCriFicE YoURSelF AmAzES mE."

"Are you not the same? You are doing everything you can to bring back the Greed Kings?"

The shadow made a threatening sound when it heard itself being equated to a human. However, it did not deny Ian's claims.

"ThE GrEeD KiNGs Is OnlY A nAmE YoU HuManS GaVe Us."

"I don't care if it's the Six Gods or the Eight Kings. I will lead this world into darkness if necessary. We are allied because our objectives align."

"A PiTy… YoU WoUld MaKE a GoOd DeVil."

The shadow wisped into nothingness.

"Hmph… And, you would make a good human."

Ian took a brief look at the dead body on the ground.

"Have a nice rest, Maria. I'll be back with Marianna soon."

…

…

"Where is Marquis Ian Vermillion Fasris? I need to relay important information to him," stated Suvia.

"I apologise, Captain Suvia… for you to come all this way," said the old butler while giving a bow. "But, the master of the house is not in tonight. He left for an important agenda."

 _Is he lying for him?_ wondered Suvia. _No. It would be unbeneficial._

The butler was not exaggerating. It took nearly an hour by horse to travel from the gates to the mansion.

"Where did he go…? Did he leave with anyone?"

"I did not inquire for I was busy attending my own duties. Would you like me to ask the afternoon staff?"

"No. It's alright."

Suvia did not push the matter further because the gent in front was a highly experienced butler who served the previous master. If this butler did not keep track of it, it was highly unlikely that anyone else in the household would.

"Is there anything else I can help you with? Maybe relay the message for you when he returns…?"

Suvia considered this offer. However, she decided against it as this mission was demanded to be as confidential as possible. After all, it involves the existence of a secret child related to the head of the family.

"No. Thank you. I will be leaving."

"Ah. If you see Maria on your way, please tell her to hurry back. That girl worries me sick."

The butler gave a sigh.

"I'm sorry for my rambling. Have a safe trip."

Suvia gave a bow and retreated to her horse stationed at a distant tree.

 _What now?_ Suvia thought. Her hope of easily completing Ian's request vanished.

Suvia needed Ian to confirm if the girl was his daughter. Despite the girl fitting the bill for her looks, she did not display any other characteristics of a vampire.

Then again – were the characteristics of a half-vampire necessarily shared with a pure vampire?

Were there differences between those bitten and those of natural birth?

Suvia was going to bring the man and the girl to Ian this afternoon – She _would have_ if she did not see the fight. After witnessing his monstrous ability, there was no way she could bring the man, even if he was to be escorted by her unit.

If he decided to be uncooperative and things went poorly, they would be met with heavy casualties. In addition, from Sigurd's report, the child also seemed to be important to him. Therefore, there was some chance that force was necessary, and she was here to request it.

In simple term, it was a security risk.

The man has not shown ill intent so far, but this may not be the case tomorrow.

It was similar to the argument of "The thirteen heroes today could be thirteen enemies tomorrow" – One of the most discussed controversies among the higher military powers.

Suvia was not willing to take the chance. It did not matter what insult she would face – the safety of her crew had utmost importance.

Suvia rubbed her temples.

How many would they need to bring him down with minimal casualties if they needed?

Although the magic swordsman was most definitely an idiot and used an outdated magic system, his fighting strength was not to be underestimated. Suvia, herself, would have had difficulty sparing him.

Despite that, the man easily caught the attack and rendered it useless with one move.

She felt that even if she multiplied by 20 times, it would not be enough.

Maybe they could request and wait for a few more troops to arrive from the bigger cities?

It would be ideal to hand in the child before continuing the expedition, but the expedition would be delayed at this point. The allocated expenses for her unit simply would not cover for the penalty payment that would be imposed by the Adventure's Guild for the delay.

In addition, the undead swarming to this town would be a much larger threat.

Suvia muttered the ideal situation to herself.

"We can only hope that the girl makes it back from the expedition and the man dies."

That being said, the man's impeccable strength can put a good dent into the town's undead forces.

 _Maybe, just maybe… both of my pain will just eliminate each other._

"Dammit. Where is my hero when I need him?"

For just a moment she displayed a very girly expression, before immediately tossing the weak thoughts aside.

Suvia felt stupid.

"Come on, Billy. At least you're here for me when I blow my whistle. Let's go."

She lightly patted her horse's head before she jumped on and headed off.

Billy's soft neigh was carried in a calming wind.

…

…

Momon could not sleep for the obvious reason of being an undead underneath the armour. Keeno thought it was strange for a person to stay in the armour all the time but she did not pursue the matter when he told her "It's comfortable inside the armour."

Momon was puzzled about why Keeno needed sleep in the first place. An undead vampire reaction showed for Keeno but she does not have the characteristics that he was familiar with.

In fact, he had no method to confirm what kind of undead she was.

Red eyes were commonly depicted from vampires to succubus to ghouls.

Her sharp canines were no longer sharp – _why were they no longer sharp?_

More importantly, her heart was still beating and she was breathing. So, why was she detected as an undead?

Doubt was starting to build.

 _Vampires… are undead, right?_ h _e_ thought. _If something like Peroroncino's NPC… Shalltear… came alive… how many rules of biology would she follow…?_

Then again – what were vampires in this world like?

The existence of magic in itself made no sense.

He deliberated but could not come to a conclusion.

Regardless, tonight also, he was lying down in his own bed until Keeno fell asleep. When Keeno was sound asleep, he would sneak out to do some experiments.

"Keeno, can you sleep?"

"No. You…?"

It was not that the beds were uncomfortable or the room was bad – compared to the first day – as he decided to rent out a decent room from the money gained.

He narrowed his sight onto Keeno.

"Keeno, I'm worried about you."

"What? Why…?"

The sudden statement made Keeno turn her head towards him. The waning moon's light was reflected in her crimson eyes.

"It's because you have been restless in your sleep…"

Or so, he had been told by the [Evil Eye] that acts as a sentry when he sneaked off.

He wondered if it was an early sign for more troubling behaviour that may develop in the future.

He considered leaving her in town to recover as he went on this expedition. However, disapproved of the idea as there was no one to look after her.

 _What about the future?_ he contemplated. _Is it better to provide a normal life for her? What is considered normal here?_

Since Keeno remained quiet, he continued to talk.

"Are you scared of them…? Facing a horde of undead…? Do you want to take on another quest instead?"

"…"

More moments of silence passed.

Keeno finally opened her mouth to say "That's not it."

"It's… it's just that…," she continued. "Why did I survive?"

He could not answer. It was one of the many questions on his mind as well.

"If I did not learn my second tier magic… if I did not agree to go to town… would this still have happened? Is it my fault grandpa, Felix, and aunt FeFe are gone? If I wasn't born… mother would still be here and aunt FeFe wouldn't be sad."

There were hints of tears in her voice.

 _Survivor's guilt,_ he thought with a sigh.

He was ashamed that he made her cry once more. Over and above that, he only had the comparison to a game experience.

It was, perhaps, comparable to the time when Momonga's party of 14 got wiped out by an unexpected boss skill during a patch update. He was the only one spared because he normally lets his summons do the fighting while he stood at a safe distance.

After that incident, he never again dismissed the update notes.

"I don't know what the correct words to say… or if there are even correct words at all… but it's not your fault. Even if it is, you work to make it right."

"Easy for you to say… I don't have enough strength alone."

Momon produced a small silver ring in his hand.

Earlier, he decided to test out his [Item Creation] with items of this world. He wanted to create something small and cheap, because it could be hidden or destroyed with [Item Destruction] without much hassle if it turned bad.

Conveniently, he had 12 silver coins from the trade this morning. Living expenses were not particularly high, so he decided to use 3 of it.

The result was this – a small silver ring with milgrain along the delicate edges, embodied with a small silver flower.

Effects on the ring were – same as Yggdrasil – some small and insignificant boost in the luck stat.

The luck stat in Yggdrasil boosted chance and power of a critical hit. However, he wondered if it would still work the same here. The best option was to give it to someone that he could keep his eye to monitor the effects.

In addition, it would be a bit of a waste to just discard the ring.

He got up and walked over to her bed to pass her the ring.

"Keeno, have this ring. It should give you a bit of luck and help you fight in the upcoming event. Consider me lending you my strength."

"Y… you idiot. You really know how to make a girl cry…"

"Eh? Eh!?"

 **-XXX-**


	5. Chapter 4: Just a number

**Just a number**

 **-XXX-**

The spacious granite caverns were decorated with polished gears of war and lined with crystals emitting soft magical glows.

It was one of the few residues from the time of the Eight Greed Kings.

To others, the place may have seemed like a secret sanctuary for treasures of legends, but the collection of items were deemed garbage by the Eight Greed Kings. However, their faithful creations thought it was wasteful to discard the items and decided to create this secret exhibition in honour of their conquests.

Jehvin moved swiftly and entered the largest and darkest cavern room.

The room was illuminated by a single magic crystal at the centre of a large circular stone table.

"SoRry I'M lAtE," apologised Jehvin, as he took a seat along with nine other shadowy humanoid figures. "I NeEdEd To…"

"Dammit! Damn, those so-called heroes! Just like you, FurFurira was also pathetic! To fall into the craftsman's trap…"

"Phoenicia, calm yourself," a voice of authority cut in. "You know you don't mean that."

"But Viné…!"

The figure lowered her head in melancholic fashion, in regret for her previous outburst.

"Sorry… I misspoke on impulse."

Viné – the leader and possessor of the commanding voice – glanced around the dark room with his lucid eyes.

The two eyes were an angry red. No. They were marigold yellow. No. They were arctic blue – No. They melded between the colours with each blink as if conveying another worldly message.

The silhouettes, including Jehvin, gave either a sigh or a grunt in understanding.

No one rushed Viné, for everyone comprehended the stress that he was burdened with as the leader.

Everyone in the room was familiar with each other, so the dim lighting was not for the purpose of hiding identities, but rather, for covering everyone's distraught expressions.

There were once 72 of them serving the Eight Greed Kings, known as the Heavenly Guards across the land.

The Heavenly Guards spoke as messengers and welded devastating powers to make their Kings' commands absolute.

 _What a sad_ _sight_ , thought Viné. _The once glorious nations of our Supreme Beings… reduced to only us._

"I'm sure everyone here feels the same way… frustrated and sad since the departure of our Supreme Beings. The war we waged between ourselves, ignorant of the fact we had been betrayed… betrayed by those who pledged loyalty."

Bitterness poured into Viné's voice.

"When we were at our weakest… wounded… the servants, especially _that filthy_ dragon… the one who swore to be unwavering for the longest time… delivered the most devastating blow…"

 _Perhaps, it only swore loyalty for our Masters' treasures._

Everyone snarled at the mere mention of the Platinum Dragon Lord. It was a mutual and unspoken rule between them to forbid ever bringing up that dragon by name.

It was so obvious at the time that dragon was a traitor amid the many others. However, the Supreme Beings and their faithful creations – blinded by self-righteousness – overlooked the truth.

"We threw our bodies at it, desperately trying to find an opening to revive our fallen Masters. Beleth, our bravest was the last to fall… to _that_."

The Platinum Dragon Lord was too strong.

Perhaps – it became that strong after it delivered the killing strikes to three Supreme Beings and 12 Heavenly Guards.

After realising there was too much in the difference in power, Beleth stalled the Platinum Dragon Lord for the rest to escape.

Beleth was a centauroid automaton with an upper body of a human, head and lower body of a lion, with a snake for a tail. Thus, by mechanical nature, he would always calculate the best route to take.

He must have walked in while knowing it was his end.

Viné closed his eyes and cast his mind back; the memory seemed like only yesterday.

 _"Get everyone out of here," said Beleth with his mechanical voice._

 _"What are you saying!?" responded Viné in agitation. "That dragon killed…!"_

 _"Viné," Beleth cut him off indifferently. "Look around. Clear your mind and look around you."_

 _Beleth was right. The 72 has fallen by a third – they were slowly but surely being killed._

 _In their weakened state, they would be hunted down even if they were to scramble for it now by the surrounding rebellious force and other Dragon Lords._

 _"I know what you are thinking," stated Beleth. "I'll buy us time and meet up with you later."_

Being a machine, Beleth's face and voice would literally need to crack to show an expression. In spite of that, the ones closest to Beleth could sense his emotions.

 _It was the first time Viné sensed fear and uncertainty from Beleth._

 _"W-what are you planning?" asked Viné._

 _Beleth answered by pushing his hardware to the limits; steam jetted from the joint gaps and the metal-plating seared._

 _The pulsating heatwaves carried the scent of danger and unmatched killing intent._

 _"Final Mode: [Final Destination]."_

Apart from the Supreme Beings, Beleth was considered to have the strongest ranged firepower when he entered [Final Destination].

The mode elevated the power of all attacks by three-fold and speed by two-fold.

To offset the power spike, stamina and mana depleted four times faster. If he was to take a hit during that time, he would take five times more damage.

 _There was no need for defence, for it was the end card._

 _"Beleth, you…"_

 _Viné understood the intention immediately._

 _"… Tch… I'll see you later."_

 _"You too."_

 _Viné screamed through [Message] at the remains of the 72._

 _[Run… Spread out and escape! Now! Meet up at Kingdom of El Tericathia!]_

 _A torrential rain, a hurricane, a tornado – bullets, missiles, cannons, and lasers barraged in all directions. A few allies were caught in the onslaught to create the opening necessary._

 _Brave,_ Viné pondered on the word. _At least his death was noble and brave…_

Back then, there was a total of 36 others who escaped successfully. However, the loss of comrades did not cease there.

"For 40 years we tried without success to increase our strength, our levels… to recapture our castle… However, it was not possible. It was as if our strength was already predetermined during our time of creation."

"V-Viné," interjected a shadow with her voice full of worry. "I-if it's too hard for you… you can stop. Y-you may be a golem but you still are a sentient creati…"

"I'll be fine. Thanks, Rem-Buer."

Viné shuffled before continuing.

"I don't know who exactly came up with the idea or when it exactly started… but one by one, the fire in our hearts gave out. Let Leraje… be the last one. "

It was an understatement.

Hitting the point of despair and madness, the leftovers took their own lives one at a time. They concluded: _There is no point in our existence if we cannot serve our creators_ , _our Supreme Beings, our only Gods…_

Without a master or a purpose, sentience as a tool was no more than a torturing curse.

What had they done wrong to deserve this hell?

"Then… I had an idea… why don't we utilise vermin to deal with vermin? If they had the potential to grow… why don't we nurture them into weapons for us? And thus, we began to experiment. We were lucky Jehvin still had the item Flower*Pot-sama bestowed him… A bag of Zy'tl seeds."

The Zy'tl seed was uncovered by Flower*Pot after she demolished a village of ents, treants and dryads for refusing her rule. Flower*Pot handed the seeds to Jehvin for safe keeping with a warning: "Do not use the seed. The seed corrodes the mind in exchange for power."

Being a creation of Flower*Pot, the words were an absolute command – no less than law. If Flower*Pot said "purple is black", Jehvin would enforce it without the shadow of a doubt.

Jehvin waited for Flower*Pot to have time to experiment with the seeds. This was a usual occurrence when Flower*Pot takes interest in strange entities.

However – relationships in the guild deteriorated rapidly. Flower*Pot was caught in the crossfire. She was the first to fall to the Platinum Dragon Lord in her weakened and injured state.

In desperation, Jehvin decided to bring the seeds up and disobeyed Flower*Pot.

Many races were experimented on in 60 years.

The results were astounding when performed on beings of this world, especially when ones talented in arcane magic were infested. The bodies of ones without talent ate into itself and rotted from within. It was almost as if the growth of the Zy'tl seed depended on the host's magic circuit.

In addition, the more corrupt the host and its encompassment was, the faster the Zy'tl seed seemed to grow and mature.

However, the success was not without casualties.

Jehvin was met with the death of a few comrades when attempting to apply the seeds to themselves. The bodies that were given to them by their creators vehemently rejected the foreign substance.

Adding to the casualty list, another few deaths were met when trying to manipulate control of the more powerful Zy'tl spawns.

Nevertheless, the comrades willingly gave themselves. To them, there was no greater glory than dying for their Supreme Beings. Larger than that, it was their entire purpose of existence.

Another 150 years more, the remaining 11 planned and plotted, turning nations into wastelands from behind the scenes.

It was a slow and daunting 250 years in total since the passing of their half-century rule.

However, all of it was necessary to breed, cultivate, and harvest exceptional talents of this world needed to bare the Zy'tl seeds.

"Then 50 years ago, the first important specimen was awakened. But…"

Viné gave a longer than usual pause.

"HeROeS… UnExPeCtEd InTrUdErs…"

Viné nodded.

"That's correct, Jehvin."

50 years ago, Furfurira was tasked with fully awakening an infested treant.

Furfurira was a faun with feathered wings of black and legs of a goat. She had lovely flowing green hair and eyes on her human face. Her personality was loved by those around her.

Contrary to her amicable characteristics, she specialised in mental attacks and peeking into the minds of others.

Furfurira was to cast a high-level mind break magic to destroy the last remnants of the treant's sentience, which served as the last layer of psyche containing the rampant energy underneath.

A high tier magic was necessary as hosts became more resilient to mental attacks with the maturation of the Zy'tl seed.

Did the power come from being a combination or did the Zy'tl void the host of all conscience?

Regardless, Furfurira activated her strongest magic, sixth tier magic [Quantum Break].

The lustrous and mystifying arcanery snaked through the clouds…

Then it happened – The birth of an enormous mindless plant beast.

Those who saw the scene could describe it as a tear in the sky where evil spawned and descended from.

The evil tree towered 100 meters in height and extended 300 meters in length. It had a patch of green moss on its head and a gaping cavernous maw in the middle of its trunks.

The cavernous maw of lined with sharp teeth devoured everything that was fed by the six branching tentacles. The tentacles uprooted the largest of trees and overturned chunks of land with each brush. The jaws crunched, destroyed, and swallowed a seemingly unending amount to satisfy its assumedly bottomless hunger.

Engulfing the dark elven villages and its residents meant nothing to it.

Bows, spears, and swords were like toothpicks. The monster enjoyed the grilled flavour from the fires.

It was an existence dictated by crude and raw instincts to feed.

Originally, the plan was to safely aggro the beast from a distance with low-level projectiles towards the flying castle. Once at the flying castle, the Platinum Dragon Lord will be forced to combat it or flee. This would buy time to infiltrate the castle and activate the resurrection protocol.

However…

Slow. The beast was very slow. It fell into odd periods of slumber, absorbed energy from the land, and reawakened to just eat.

The cycle repeated.

From the north of the Forest of Tob, it travelled only a quarter of the distance south in six years.

"The first seven heroes appeared approximately 44 years ago… and sealed away the specimen at its final stage. Then three years afterwards, Furfurira attempted to infiltrate the Magic Craftsman's mind to seek clues for weakening or destroying the seal but…"

"It was a trap set by the damned Craftsman!" Phoenicia spat out. "They publicised false information on the seal! Furfurira that love-crazed rodent ran straight into their trap! Why are we discussing this anyways!?"

Phoenicia dug her claws deep into the granite table. The room became a furnace that would scorch living flesh.

Multiple lavishing weapons and arms – a few worthy to be ranked as national treasures – cracked, unveiling weakness and faults in their construction.

The granite table's paint fragments were beginning to melt and vaporise; its hazardous and pungent smell crawled through the air.

The figures, on the other hand, only shuffled with mild discomfort in the suffocating heat and smell.

 _What a joke. The best materials produced by mortals are pathetic._

The Magic Craftsman, also known as the Runesmith King, was from a city hidden deep within Azerlisia Mountains. The metal armour he wore was shining and spectacular, though, compromised by his short stature.

It is said that he broke a sacred oath among the dwarfs to never expose their existence to the world in the pursuit to enact revenge for his family.

It was only logical to prepare yourself for blades to be aimed at you if you pointed blades at others. In his case, the Magic Craftsman wielded an earth shaking Warhammer at you.

Experimental subjects normally followed one of two paths. They either followed their loved ones to the end of life or sought alternatives through strength.

Often only a little push was needed to lead them onto the latter path. The Zy'tl seed would be offered to them through an unsuspected third party to slowly and surely corrupt them. The Zy'tl seed given to those who willing accepted it as their saving grace matured much swifter than those who rejected it.

The Runesmith King was assumed to be dead with his family when he went missing five years ago. It was unexpected for him to reappear as the Magic Craftsman among the heroes.

However – there was a question – who banded the seven heroes?

The compositions of the thirteen were from vastly different backdrops. It was almost if the ones who banded the heroes have no affliction or attachment to anywhere of this world.

"It IS nOt HeR FaUlt fOr WaNtInG to HaStEn EvErYthInG aLoNG. ShE waS iN LovE WiTh GrEeN LaNd-SaMA… LeAdEr oF ThE SuPreMe BeiNgs aFtEr AlL. ShE OnLy WaNteD tO HaSteN ThE PrOJeCt FoRwArD aNd BrInG HiM BaCk."

"You! How can you be so calm when our plans are falling to shambles!? An organisation of thirteen now… which is pretty much doubled the number at the beginning! Doesn't it frustrate you that filthy lizard is assisting the thirteen with our Masters' treasures!? They are using our own weapons against us! They are bathing in the glory that belongs to our Masters…!"

A distortion in Phoenicia's voice subtly revealed itself.

"Pests should just roll over and die… I say we do an all-out attack on these so-called heroes!"

"Settle down," commanded Viné.

"But…!"

"Phoenicia! Sit down and listen! I will not repeat myself again!"

"…"

Phoenicia reluctantly held her tongue and took her place. The temperature in the room began to cool.

Viné sighed deeply; he relaxed a little, knowing Phoenicia was still in control of her rage.

This was a crucial time where everyone had to keep their heads together.

"At first, I ordered Furfurira not to engage them because I was wary… wary because they have demonstrated powers far beyond the average of this world. But, chance slipped with my indecisiveness… the dragon indirectly recruited them to get rid of us…"

It was well-known publicly that the Platinum Dragon Lord was assisting the heroes with treasures left from the Eight Greed Kings – A calculated move to get the heroes to do its dirty work.

"… What a grave miscalculation on my part."

Evil Deities was their newly given new title – It was a public execution on whatever glory and dignity left.

"L-leader! I-it's not your fault. T-there was nothing we would do. Safety of everyone here is a priority."

Phoenicia made death glare at Rem-Buer.

"Eep! [Cotton Guard]."

Rem-Buer hid in a bundle of fluffy looking cotton with only her eye holes.

Viné continued indifferently.

"The heroes went into hiding before I could delve any deeper into them. They only appear briefly to only sabotage operations in its final stages. More so, I don't want to recklessly engage them, especially because they have the treasures of our Masters."

The world was large.

It was also likely the 13 were hiding though the means of information concealment items or concealment magic.

"Then are you telling us to sit here quietly and watch!?"

"ThAt'S NoT iT, PhOeNiCiA. As YoU KnOw, iT tAkes QuItE A wHiLe FoR THe SeEds tO GrOw AnD MaTUre. ThOsE AfFlIcTeD wItH tHe SeEd GiVe oFf NeGaTiVe EnErGy AnD MiAsMa. AssUmInG oNe Of ThE ThIrtEeN cAn SeNsE NeGaTiVe EnErGy AnD MiAsMa, oUr MoVeMeNts WiLl Be EaSy To PrEdIcT…"

"No offence Jehvin, but your voice is quite difficult to listen to," a figure with a porky voice cut in. "After the fall of Furfurira, remember when I suggested stirring large-scale instability?"

"Huh? What does that have to do with anything?"

"Leader, you have the honour of explaining it to Phoenicia… and the ones who are not in on it."

"The lazy one as always, Astarot. Let's see… where should I begin…?"

 **-XXX-**

20 years after the fall of the Eight Greed Kings, Arwintar was established as a central trade district throughout the land. The human city flourished with a population of 40,000 at its peak.

Adversity was never too far away. Wealth always attended with her ugly cousin, Greed.

After a couple centuries of glory, the number had dwindled to 15,000. In the past decade, this number has further reduced down to 10,000 due to the dramatic rise and falls of many powers. As with such patterns in history, many were speculating this city will soon collapse, followed shortly by the Baharuth country.

The Adventurer's Guild of Arwintar now was only a hollowed out shell. The soldiers near there were seized by the civil strife.

The El Nix family – one of the many factions opposing the King – was rumoured to seek the creation an empire to unite the people once and for all. The word "unity" was a pipe dream for the people seized amidst the struggles, for everyone understood the establishment of an empire would dye the land in red with the fall of many independent countries and nations.

Nevertheless, urgent adventurer requests were sent to northern towns within two days of express travelling from Teh Erebus.

To stay out of the raging politics and conflicts of Arwintar, all adventurers who joined the expedition signed a statement claiming they were unaffiliated to warring factions. This was because factions could claim association to gain support and publicity, which would drag many into an unwanted mess.

On the day of departure, 24 adventurers and 10 soldiers set out from Teh Erebus. This fighting force was exceedingly small compared to the number of undead they were expected to take down.

Teh Etherian managed to reach a significantly large population of around 6,000 because the town initially was an investment by the wealthy as an intended gateway to allow trading with the neighbouring Draconic Kingdom.

However – disaster struck before its purpose – an estimated 3,000 undead remained.

Being able to turn half the population into undead was no small feat.

Over two and a half day, 67 adventures and 7 soldiers caught up and joined the departure group. In total, there were 91 adventurers and 17 soldiers. This was considered quite a large number, as most towns north were nothing but pockets of existence left after the rampage of the Eight Kings. Eth-Lumina, one of the larger northern towns, only had a population little more than 200.

The force was by no means astounding at this point, but the mission was significantly more achievable. The duration was projected to last two weeks, assuming the amount of undead was reduced effectively with explosives and projectiles, followed by some guerrilla tactics.

A smaller second group of reinforcement was expected, but there would be at least one to two days of delay before they arrived.

Suvia – with one accompanying her – rode on ahead to scout the situation. The undead did not seem to increase in number and no strange movements were observed.

The one accompanying her, who was an acting messenger, returned with the report, while Suvia decided to remain at the destination. There was no point running back and forth when no oddities have occurred, so everyone proceeded at a casual pace.

After the brief lunch break, the plan was to pick up the pace and reach the intended destination by tonight to set up a long-term camp. The camp was to be situated a reasonable distance from the town of undead.

Momon had glee when he heard the familiar one-eyed coordinator announce the plan because he thought the scenery of green was changing a bit too slow for his liking. However, he gave mind when considering the supplies being transported and the troops being waited on.

He stood on a small mound and fixed his gaze into the distance.

 _How strange… Why does the Captain scout rather than send dispensable units? Or perhaps, she nominated herself for the task…_

It was common knowledge that the rank of Captain was given to those with strength. It was said that Captain Suvia's strength was unmatched in an unconventional way. Therefore, if the Captain was to meet an unfortunate end while scouting, it would be a huge loss to the military.

On the other hand, he did not want to think about the situation behind him – both figuratively and literally.

Momon was trying to take his mind off the finger that Keeno decided to put the ring on.

He did try for an explanation, but the common sense of this world pushed his explanation aside. Common sense was simple: "There's no such thing as the existence of luck increasing items" in this world.

He was shocked.

He was shocked because it made very simple sense. In the life of Satoru Suzuki, lucky charms were but gestures of hope.

Taking both sides of the equation, Keeno misunderstood it as a marriage proposal and was overjoyed by the gift.

Initially, he wanted to clear things up, but after seeing how happy Keeno was, he decided to leave the matter and revisit it another time.

Momon gave a deep sigh.

 _If it only ended with that_.

A female adventurer – with the impression of a thief – caught glimpse of the ring during the break and exclaimed, "Eiya! How beautiful! Did someone give this to you?"

The uproar drew the attention of surrounding female adventurers, leading to more attention. Keeno, who was awkward with her choice of words, ended being swept up by the flow.

It was a vicious cycle with Keeno as the centre.

In short, one thing piled onto the next, snowballing Keeno into her current situation – surrounded by an entourage of approximately a dozen female adventurers.

"And, and what did he say and do!?" edged one on.

The pressure exerted by the group made Keeno put on a difficult expression as she spoke, "Um… basically… I said I couldn't do it alone… He gave me the ring and said he would use his strength…"

"Kyaa…! H-his strength? R-really?" squealed another.

"No way… and you guys just rolled in bed afterwards!?" added a third.

"Huh…? We were in bed… I guess?" replied Keeno in confusion.

 _No!_ denied Momon. _I mean… yes, we were in bed… but different beds._

He could not bear to watch where the conversation was going any longer.

 _At least the female soldiers seem professional about this._

No. When he looked closely, their ears were red to the gossip.

The men were looking at him with pity.

Momon was going to be a famous figure no doubt, but not in the way he intended at this rate.

"Haha…," heartily laughed an old man as he approached Momon.

The old man walked with an awkward gait, perhaps, from trying to balance his typical senile looking potbelly. His locks of white hair swayed side to side, to the rhythm of each shuffle. His bulkiness was accentuated by the leather barbarian armour he wore.

The old man was a druid. One could tell from the smell of herbs wafting from him.

"Buddy, quite the little wife isn't she…?"

"K'Cuhc Egas Y-vrep… are you making fun of me? The ring was to put her in a good mood… it is important for a good mentality. Besides, she's only 12… just a child."

"Please, call me Egas… it's nice and short. You say and ask about some interesting things. It is true that a strong mind is crucial but… most of all… that girl has very an alluring charisma."

"…"

Turning around to observe Keeno, Momon could not disagree with Egas. The looks of the ones around Keeno had determination – The determination for what?

Perhaps — it was the determination to see the end of Keeno's story.

"However, Momon… I have to refute you on one thing."

"That is…?"

"An adult is not defined by age… an adult is defined by when they are independent."

"Your point…?"

"She can marry. It appears you are not from around here… to not know common knowledge."

 _Uwah… Good thing I added "when you grow up" to the end of the conversation with Keeno_ , thought Momon.

"Well, I am from the far, far south after all."

"That's not what I mean… It feels as if you aren't a resident of this world…"

Although Momon did not need to breathe, he held his breath until Egas continued.

"… Are you perchance a person who has lived a life of nobility… having a go at adventuring? As far as I am aware… only nobles live in a whole different world. A world I never understood…"

"I, I see…," Momon managed to choke up. "Maybe it's just the difference in culture."

People in the adventurer business tend to have their own fair share of history they want to hide. Not probing too deeply was the best choice to take.

"Hahaha…," laughed Egas. "Still unwilling to talk, huh? How unfair… Even though I told you a bit about my romantic get away from Slane Theocracy…"

"Your wife…"

Momon shifted his eyes to a silver-haired elf cuddling Keeno like a small animal on her lap. The elf's bountiful bosoms were pronounced through her ranger's outfit and resting on Keeno's head.

 _Hmmm… Rangers are known for mobility, right? How does she exactly move with those?_ wondered Momon. However, the notions were quickly tossed aside for his brain to take refuge from physics.

The elf went by the name Aria.

According to traditional tales, silver hair indicated the status of a high elf. Everyone dismissed the baseless belief quickly because it was near impossible for a high elf to leave the Elven Council and travel. Besides, high elves, in particular, were said to live in luxury with the blessing of the forest, so it made no sense for them to leave.

In spite of various tales and sayings, when the silver hair was disregarded, elves journeying alongside with other races were not rare. Most accepted Aria easily because she looked human enough when her ears were hidden by the long silver hair.

Nevertheless, if one was to mend a few pieces of the puzzle together, Aria's name was probably an alias.

The minimal amount for a party was usually six, so the people who had no party were placed into small groups of four. So, the four – Momon, Keeno, Egas, and Aria – were allocated together as a party for the expedition.

Small groups stressed temporary leaders less and it was easier to coordinate. In addition, many weaknesses were eliminated with an adequate combination of jobs.

Momon was a tanky warrior, Keeno was a supporting sorcerer, Egas was a healing druid, and Aria was a sniping ranger. It made perfect sense to form a well-balanced party like this.

However, it was more like a group of misfits – an absurdly strong warrior, a look-alike vampire, and a probable high elf – in the perspective of others. The most normal one of them was, perhaps, Egas.

Keeno did not demonstrate any prior knowledge about her own appearance change. When Momon held out a mirror to her, Keeno reacted in a way any other girl would; she was fascinated and overjoyed with what she called a "makeover".

Momon also questioned why people thought Keeno's characteristics made her look like a vampire and not something like a succubus. Unsurprisingly, people laughed at the idea and continued to laugh harder after realising Momon was serious.

The smirks did not bother Momon. He simply pressured on by highlighting the inconsistencies in the information. In the end, everyone shrugged and said "the Sword Saint said so" as a conclusion.

In summary, no one here has personally dealt with real vampires before, so all information sources were secondary to none.

"Ahh… I better stop my wife. Things are getting a little too out of hand for the child. I guess… there's no helping it. She's wanted her own for a long time. I'll chat with you more about the circumstances around here later."

The old man started his waddling towards the group.

"Um… I don't really think you…

"Don't worry about it… I like chatting, too."

"No. I don't mean that…"

When Egas was asked to state his affliction this morning by the eye-patched coordinator, the madman announced his allegiance "is to the beautiful women of this world".

How he ever ended up with an elf – known for loyalty to their partners – was a mystery.

Then he made some compliments and did some actions, which the other females took for harassment. One thing left to another, and a barrage of rocks was thrown at him this morning.

 _Amazing_ , thought Momon, as he watched the scene a second time. _Absolutely amazing… I wonder if he has an innate talent of some sort._

A rock zipped past Egas, narrowly missing the face. Many more sharp rocks followed suit.

"Eek! Someone stop him… any closer and we might get pregnant."

However – try as the females might, the rocks will never hit the intended target. Egas was unfazed and walked in a straight line.

All things said and done, he was just a very passionate person and harboured no ill-intentions.

It made Momon regret a little that the two additions were nice people because if things were to deteriorate, escaping unscathed with Keeno was the top priority.

"Darling~"

The elf sweetly smiled as she pulled out her crossbow and with a steel arrow loaded.

"You are not coming near this girl~"

"W-w-wait, y-you know that thing will hit me… My blessing doesn't work like th…"

 _Thwip~_

The arrow launched, flying straight and true for between Egas' eyes. Unlike the rocks, Egas was forced to dodge the arrow.

The arrow struck deep into a tree trunk.

"A warning shot~"

"Warning? As I recall, warn shots aren't meant to kill. For the love of Six Gods, are you making fun of me, too?"

"Well~ you're not dead… yet."

 _Fthweeeee~_

The whistle signalled the end of the break. It was time to hit the road before things progressed any further.

Everyone packed away their rations and coat-hangers that were fortunate enough to only dangle dried goods.

"Now then…"

 _[Message] Phantom Assassins… give me an update. How is the Captain holding out against the Death Knight?_

 _My apologies, Momonga-sama_ , replied a Phantom Assassin. _A disastrous situation has occurred._

 **-XXX-**

|_|- |_|- |_|- |_|- |_|- **[Northern gates]** -|_|-|_|-|_|-|_|-|_|

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Middle

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Suvia watched as the messenger faded. The messenger was to deliver the report back to the group and travel with them back here, the destination.

The area was located approximately two kilometres from the town. It was a safe area because the undead has not spread far, yet.

Or so it was deemed in the report…

The messenger had been sent off with a pseudo-preliminary styled report. It contained vague but sufficient information to prevent suspicion being evoked if the details were to be audited by the upper echelons of the military later.

Suvia mounted her horse and proceeded to the ruins; her real job started now.

Suvia's goal was to retrieve the half-human and half-vampire child. Unlike skeletons and zombies, the vampire was said to retain human form.

 _That bastard held back on details. Why does he so confidently say that his daughter is here? A normal reaction of any child would be to flee in a random direction._

Then again – the situation was far beyond the scope of normal.

Time flies when the mind is occupied.

"Tch…"

Miasma drifted through the wind; the faint but noticeable stenches of the dead made Suvia's horse, Billy, neigh and stumble with anxiousness.

A few undead were already in sight's distance range, not far from the town's borders.

Suvia stroked Billy's head to calm him down.

Billy neighed and grunted soothingly in response to the petting.

Suvia unmounted the withered out Billy and gave a few rhythmical pats to signal his role was over.

However, Billy was now pulling on and fiddling with Suvia's armour.

"Geez… Here's a carrot. Just wait here."

Suvia turned towards the undead and walked in their direction.

"Sword… check. Dagger… check. Torch oil… check. Flares… Check. Filled water bottle… check. Small rations… check."

Suvia has swapped out most of her metallic Valkyrie armour in favour of lighter leathers and cloths for mobility. The only metal armours she had equipped were the vambraces and greaves.

"Rrrr…"

The aloof skeletons and zombies in caught vision of an approaching sparkle in the high noon's sun. Although the beating sunlight at this time of day puts a toll on the human body, it was also believed the light purified and heavily weakened creatures of evil.

Suvia rested her grip on the leather hilt of her longsword strapped to the right of her waist.

"One, two, three, four, five, six…," counted Suvia.

Suvia drew her sword and swiped at the slow-moving zombies that were limping towards her.

Despite the appearance of the lazy movements, the blade effortlessly decapitated the undead creatures while leaving light burn marks in its wake.

The 120-centimetre longsword was a common but expensive weapon issued by the church specialised for exterminating undead and evil creatures. It was enchanted with holy effects that activated when channelling small amounts of mana through it.

Suvia could not use mana to cast spells but she could effectively channel mana into the sword in small amounts.

Teh Etherian had two main gates: northern and southern. The main roads leading from town centre towards these gates were divided into three parts: inner, middle, and outer. The inner parts primarily traded highly refined good, accessories, and books. The middle parts prioritised weapons, armours, and clothing. The outer parts mostly traded fresh foods and basic travelling items.

The divisions were decided by small checkpoints and the tax rates between the each district altered accordingly. The difference was said "to maintain the standard of living there", but in reality, it was indirectly segregating the poor, the wealthy, and the extremely wealthy.

Suvia strolled into town and swept her eyes around the small food stalls situated near the dilapidated stone walls surrounding the once prosperous trade town.

A skeleton ran in Suvia's direction and took a swing with its dagger. Suvia easily parried the attack and smashed the skeleton's skull with the pommel of her sword. The skeleton was reduced to nothing but a pile of bones.

She continued to make her way to the checkpoint.

While Suvia's strides gave the impression of her being wide open, it was a deliberate taunt to draw enemies out.

She sharpened her senses to detect the reanimated residents of this town. Her ears were straining to hear moaning and groaning sounds. Her tactile sensations were feeling the movements of the air and vibrations of the earth.

Abnormal – The density of undead was too low according to the information and size of this town. It felt like the ones she had slain were small leftovers of this area.

 _Did the undead conglomerate into a larger undead, such as skeleton centipedes?_

Suvia encountered a skeleton centipede once in the past when she was serving sentry duty as a low-ranking foot soldier. She defeated the monster first to test her own skills and killed the necromancer second for resisting arrest.

Most people, who heard the story, were outraged that a woman could achieve such a feat despite multiple testimonies from witnesses. The sceptics started spreading rumours of Suvia killing the necromancer to stop him talking and the monster was taken out by the other guards. They assumed the wounds Suvia suffered were self-inflicted, intended for make-believe.

It was said that "She paid and staged the whole ordeal."

The church made no effort to publicly deny it, as there was no need to risk the church's reputation for an individual. However, to prevent the loss of a talent and a considerable asset, Suvia was slowly and secretly promoted through the ranks to chain her to the church.

Rotten – The hearts of men were comparable to the disgusting leftover food in the stalls.

 _As I though… this is too strange. The undead normally swarmed towards the living… so why aren't they swarming towards me?_

No insects buzzed. No zombies shuffled. No skeletons cracked.

Suvia turned a corner to meet the check point's corroded stone arch with a gate of fortified black steel.

 _No. That's not a gate._

There – standing behind the towering shield – was a huge undead creature like no other.

The creature was cladded in black metal armour that was engraved with bloodlines. The bountiful sharp thorns all over the armour screamed brutality.

The two demonic horns emerging from the helmet did not take the face's spotlight of rotting flesh. Its beady glowing red eyes in the sockets flared with hate and killing intent

It looked like a heavily armoured knight who served Death himself.

The creature roared with towards the sky and used its right hand to draw a snaking broadsword. The 130-centimetre broadsword was coated with waves of red and black fog, which pulsed like a heartbeat and agitated the surrounding.

Was the undead calling for an audience or was it declaring war against the heavens?

Regardless, Suvia sensed it one step too late. She felt that if she was to turn her back now, the thing would chase and cut her down.

The pressure increased by a few notches, as the knight of Death paced sluggishly towards Suvia.

 _Looks like I have to fight._

Suvia gripped her longsword tightly with two hands and channelled small amounts of magical energy through it. The sword's imbued holy essence activated and the blade illuminated a soft holy glow.

 _A paladin's duty was to serve God by vanquishing evil beings,_ or so were the church's superficial teachings.

The paladin stood tall in the face of the incarnation of violence.

Although the difference in height between the two was slightly less than one meter, the Death Knight gave the impression of being much, much larger. It felt as though the strength of two had visually manifested.

 _Death Knight, play with her,_ was the abomination's command.

Why? Why not destroy her immediately? Did the master enjoy this kind of entertainment?

The Death Knight did not care for the reason. It only had the master's glorious order in mind. Therefore, it should use all its power to fulfil the objective.

No. Using full power would violate the master's orders.

Then what is play? How much power does playing encompass?

An error was formed in its logical reasoning and decided best to consult the Phantom Assassins in a mental message. In this way, it could fulfil the order without upsetting its master for its incompetency.

"What is this?" muttered the paladin under her breath. "Why has it stopped moving?"

The paladin did not recklessly attack because the Death Knight's glare seemed to be aimed at her soul.

…

…

 _That's the situation_ , concluded the Phantom Assassin. _Our deepest apologies, Momonga-sama. We are ashamed at of being unable to comprehend your commands._

Death Knight was one of Momonga's favourite summon because of its two special skills. The first skill taunted and attracted attacks from the enemies. The second skill allowed the Death Knight to survive lethal attacks, provided that it had sufficient health.

In addition to his favourite skills, the targets slain by the Death Knight were spawned as zombies.

The Death Knight was a level 35 summon that fought comparable to level 25 monsters and had defence capabilities equivalent to level 40 monsters.

Momonga pitted the Death Knight against one of the strongest solo fighters in Teh Erebus, so he would be able to obtain an inkling of this world's strength. Originally, Momonga planned to send a Phantom Assassin but it would be pointless if they were to one-shot the target or to be one-shotted by the target.

Captain Suvia was said to be as strong as a mithril plate adventurer and had a rating of 40. The plate reflected the strength of the adventurer, whereas the rating determined the difficult of a target to kill. Therefore, Suvia should have a multitude of accomplishments and required 40 people to defeat without problems.

However, the system was perplexing and had many flaws in itself.

"Did everyone in a party with the same plate have the same strength?" and "How strong must the 40 people be?" were a couple of the unanswered questions Momonga had. He hoped this experiment would net him the answers.

Momonga also had another reason to summon the Death Knight. It was to test out if normally summoned Death Knights time-out in comparison to the ones summoned out of a corpse.

Last night, he secretly snuck out to the ruins to normal summon a Phantom Assassin and Death Knight, along with another Death Knight from a corpse.

So far, monsters did not seem to time-out when summoned with substance.

He cleared out most of the undead creatures in the northern outer region with his summons to prevent interference with the fight. It appears the strength of both types of summons, with and without a corpse, were the same.

However, due to all the swirling thoughts in his head, he carelessly dismissed the most important thing.

It was a sin to give out vague and unclear instructions, as it caused confusions and unintended situations. He berated himself for committing this sin, which he once vowed to never do in the distant past.

Momonga planted his face into the palms of his hands as he took a seat on the waggon he boarded.

"Somefing wrong?" asked Keeno.

"Nothing," he denied.

He looked around inside the transport cart for an excuse inspiration. Half a dozen pairs, plus one, eyes glanced back in curiosity before quickly turning away to resume their business.

He felt a little awkward because being the only male on the transport wagon.

"Just a bit… um… of stomach pain… from the lunch you see."

"Oh? Do eu need mefdicine?"

"It's fine, Keeno. It's starting to go already. Take a snooze… because it will be a while till we get there."

"Mmm… if ew sey so…"

The princess shuffled and snuggled herself comfortably against the dark warrior.

The onlookers mumbled things like "Uwah… cute", "Her pronunciation is adorable", and "Isn't this what they called playing cute?"

"Shhh…! You guys be quiet."

Momonga head was full and ignored everyone's comments. He assumed a more comfortable position on his seat with Keeno and pretended to fall asleep.

In the days of Satoru Suzuki, it would be a bad look if the boss apologised for mistakes. The action would evoke distrust in subordinates and hinder future endeavours of a company.

Therefore, Momonga could not admit his blunder. It would be a setback if his summons were to disobey him later.

Momonga reopened the communication channel.

 _[Message] Umu… I'm glad you relayed important inquiries. Tell Death Knight to fight at 10 percent and slowly increase it. And… Umu… when you take a direct hit, you must take one step back before your next attack. Good job and keep it up._

 _We heed and obey,_ replied the Phantom Assassins in unison.

The Phantom Assassins kneeled in unison despite Momonga being unable to see them.

Momonga closed the communication channel.

"Oh my god!" squealed one Phantom Assassin. "I thought we were abandoned when Momonga-sama terminated the communication channel!"

"S-such benevolence. We better work hard to earn his trust back!" continued the second Phantom Assassin. "How disgraceful. To think I contemplated taking my own life for a second…"

The third choked up and spit out a capsule pill. She furiously nodded in agreement.

…

…

The Death Knight roared in acknowledgement and advanced with full of openings. It was almost as if it was provoking the opponent to head dive and attack.

The paladin did not drop her guard. She braced the sword and entered a fighting stance by centralising her gravity.

 _It's coming._

The Death Knight performed a series of random stabs with the sword.

Fast, faster, and fastest – the Death Knight's sword seemed to slither through the air.

The paladin dodged the bites and twirled elegantly to counter with a horizontal slash. However, the light of horizon was stopped and seemed to be devoured by a pitch black wall, the towering shield.

The clash of swords sang a song; the beating of metal was the tempo of the battle.

The movements of the swords captured the dazzling beauty of the sun in decorum to the sparks that danced to their own fancy will.

A tempest and an insurmountable wall – was the clash between the two ever so neat?

All dances came to an end.

The paladin was only human and needed to end the fight fast, while the undead could extend the fight with its limitless stamina.

The paladin increased her aggression and went for her finishing move.

The paladin slashed upwards. The Death Knight deflected it with a swing of its sword.

No. The slash from the paladin was a feint.

As the Death Knight was recovering its stance, another upwards slash from the same direction came for the skeletal head.

The Death Knight, faster than the human's comprehension, swung its head backwards at an impossible angle.

A graze – a small scratch was left on the helm by the holy sword.

 _What the hell?_ thought Suvia.

The attack normally would have split the jaws of opponents, but normality and common sense did not apply here.

Since the slash was avoided by the Death Knight, the momentum was carrying the paladin forwards and upwards.

In this brief moment, the paladin was exposed.

The Death Knight took advantage of the opening and shield-bashed the paladin to make her lose balance. Its sword darted towards the chest of the paladin who was falling backwards.

Slow – Why did her fall feel so slow?

 _It was impossible to evade._

Anyone would have thought that way but…

… she let go of the sword.

"[Full Throttle]"

Suvia hit the ground and rolled out of the way. She was in a horrible state, left with only a dagger which could not contest with the range of the Death Knight's broadsword.

The creature's speed and power was overwhelming. Suvia knew this well from their fight.

Who was the aggressor and who was doing the vanquishing now?

The creature had been increasing and unleashing its power bit by bit. Suvia initially thought it was fatigue kicking in but the hit from the shield blew that doubt away. It was almost as if the thing was toying with her all along.

 _I. Can't. Run._

Suvia was outclassed.

It was no longer a fight with the honour of a paladin on the line. It was the fight for an animal to survive.

Suvia hastily jumped back up and drew a dagger.

"There's no choice after all. Guess I have to use that…"

Suvia whistled into the air and then discarded the small pouches she was carrying.

"I hope this works…"

Suvia kept her eyes on the creature and began to chant, while the creature watched as a strong would belittle the weak.

"[Lesser Speed Boost], [Thought Acceleration]"

It was not magic nor an innate ability.

 _So… this is the so-called Martial Arts Egas talked about,_ thought Momonga, as he watched using [Distant Vision].

The first dated appearance of martial arts was approximately 50 years ago. Historians believe it was a technique originating from the east.

Rather than using mana like magic, martial arts utilised the Chi to push the body and mind to its limits. Martial Arts seemed to be perfectly suited to those untalented in magic, as most people can learn one or two techniques with enough rigorous training.

On the other hand, martial arts were considered dirt-techniques by the nobles and users faced persecution. This was because magic users were mostly people with prestigious backgrounds. A few examples included nobles, wealthy merchants, and high government officials. Considering how much more easily martial arts can be replicated than magic, the power balance in a country could easily be thrown into disorder.

In simple terms, it threatened those who gained power by learning magic, which was a majority of those holding high positions within a country.

Many high ranking nobles and upper military echelons, who exiled in martial arts, were purged from their positions when the new King was crowned a decade back

It was a reason Suvia disliked fighting alongside others. She truly detested the face of pity when people come to a realisation of her past.

Suvia charged towards the Death Knight, abandoning all notions of defence. She had to end this before the Death Knight brought out its full power.

A few more strikes and parries were exchanged.

Suvia was being pushed back.

Slow – the movement was sluggish in the eyes of the Death Knight.

The Death Knight aimed for the face and thrust the sword.

Unlike the sword, her dagger had no enchantments or imbued magic. It was a plain lightweight dagger, but that was all she needed.

In the last splitting of a second, she activated it again.

"[Full Throttle]"

A few strands of hair danced in the air with a glimmering droplet of blood.

She was now in the embracing range of the Death Knight. Without wasting a moment, Suvia screamed, "[Two-Fold Slash of Light]."

The Death Knight staggered backwards with two small gouges present on the chest plate. Half of the dagger's blade shattered into fragments.

"Tch…"

Despite the attack being Suvia's trump card, the blade was too short and lacked weight to do any real damage.

Then again – Suvia doubted that her original longsword would have done much better.

The Death Knight recovered and wasted no time in dishing out its next blow. The weight of the downwards swing behind the broadsword intended to split Suvia in two.

Suvia held up her broken blade in preparation to receive the blow. If a normal person were to take the hit, a few bones would be fractured beyond redemption.

"[Fortress]"

Suvia's broken dagger glowed a faint green. The Death Knight's broadsword harmless bounced off the dagger's remaining blade.

However – that strike was not the end of it.

"[Fortress], [Fortress], [Fortress], [Fortress], [Fortress]…"

 _Clank, clank, clank, clank, clank~_

The Death Knight looked as if it was hammering a nail into the ground.

Suvia's vision was becoming blurry from exhaustion. She could not keep it up much longer.

"[Fort…]"

The Death Knight gripped Suvia's neck and dangled her.

Suvia struggled to break free but the monster's grip was too strong.

The monster stabbed its sword into the ground and placed the newly freed hand onto Suvia's head and started to pull.

Its crude and raw strength increased – little by little, more and more – until the head tore, accompanied with the spine flailing like a tail.

The monster gave a roar while raising the head high in the sky.

Was it a roar of triumph or was it a roar of mocking laughter?

No. That was not it. That was what should have happened.

The monster roared and let go of Suvia to defend itself from an unexpected explosion. The explosion did not harm or startle the Death Knight but defending itself was still an instinctive reaction.

Any person would have thought the act of discarding metal armour and leather pouches were to remove unnecessary weight. Although some weight was removed from Suvia's body, the real purpose was to wait for the magic firestones to ignite the explosives.

Billy, the horse, jumped into the cloud of dust and debris, thickened by the mist from the water bottle.

Suvia jumped and slumped her body onto Billy's back.

The monster, realising what has happened, picked up and threw its sword with its enormous strength. The blade narrowly missed Suvia's body and nipped Billy's ears before it struck and collapsed a cobblestone wall.

More dust was thrown into the air and blocked the Death Knight's vision. Nonetheless, it did not matter, as the Phantom Assassins were relaying the information.

While in hot pursuit, the voice of its God suddenly gave a different command.

 _[Message] Death Knight, that's enough. Well done. Standby at the forest until further notice._

The monster roared in acknowledgement.

After realising the monster had stopped giving chase, Suvia pulled on the reins to slow Billy.

"Thanks, Billy," said Suvia, as she unwillingly drifted between wake and sleep. "You always… come… through… you…"

 **-XXX-**


	6. Chapter 5: Wall-flower

**Wallflower**

 **-XXX-**

The sullen eyes of the creature spied upon the hooded three. Its spine-like, jagged fingers clamped and unfurled as if wondering how their pitiful necks would feel within its sundering grasp. It dragged itself along with twisting vines, reeling ever so slowly towards the adventurers.

 _Heh~ The lesser three of the 13 shan't be a challange._

Its ears twitched. It suddenly hung from the underside of the branch, swinging like a pendulum with its eyes glowing like fireflies in a lantern.

It's leg twitched, and it vanished - the lustre of its massive opal eyes leaving behind an quickly fading glow.

 _Swoosh~_

With every leap, an afterimage lazily trailed its lightning trajectory.

 _Kracha~_

A rustle of the branches was heard with each sinister grappling movement, and in between – a eerie silence.

 _Thump, thump, thump, thump~_

Heartbeats, counting down to a hunt.

"It is but a treant, pay it no heed," declared the vanguard in a commanding tone.

"Mihal, are you sure?" asked the petite elf. Though seemingly plant-like through her viridian green eyes, the creature seemed animalistic in both behaviour and physique.

The mere mention of treant provokes the thought of a living tree, but this one was actually closer to that of a tarsier. These three, who have seen neither of the two existence, could not ascertain the nature of the beast.

The pairs of eyes beneath the three hoods darted side to side with wariness in pursuit. It was their first time catching a glimpse of something like this at all.

 _Kraccha~_

Another branch? No. It was-

"Kyaaaaaaaa...!"

The cry of the female elf pieced the stifled silence of the glade, much like a needle through quilt.

"Ly-Lydon...!"

The robed lizardman dangled from a creaking tree, hanging by its vines like a voodoo marionette. His tongue was slack, limbs were dislocated, and the robe was soaked with blood.

 _Of course,_ thought Lyra. It was the most logical choice to take down the healer, the weakest chain in the group, first.

Three reduced to two in an instant.

"No point hiding now."

Without even a hint of sadness or fear, the vanguard flung aside his cloak to reveal a toned, grey, scale-clad body marked with demonic taint, edging his torso like eldritch tendrils.

The cloak stirred for a moment, still trying to camouflage into the surroundings, but faded to a simple brown cloak once the flow of magic was severed.

"Do you ever wonder what death feels like?"

The scent of sap, the coursing wind, the faint falls of water. The draconic-demon's voice sung so sweetly upon the breeze.

His scales gleamed 50 shades of grey in the light that have managed to penetrate the luscious canopy.

It was... _hypnotising_.

"Ooohh it's a wondrous thing, I assure you. To feel your wavering soul ebb and flow with flow of the world, as your vision fades to darkness. Would you not crave such an affectionate embrace? That sweet cradle of the dark?"

 _That's not right... was Mihal was always this charming..?_

Lyra, noticing the oddity, tried to reach for her crossbow. But, her strength faltered, failing to muster any to her own accord.

Her last thought was _Ah... It doesn't matter_ before receiving a hard blow to the abdomen. She tumbled backwards and hit a tree.

-breaking the vision.

"Ow, ow, ow. Inconceivable... How could I have fallen for such petty tricks...!"

She stood up using the tree as a support.

Despite being saved, the elf started to fume as she readied her crossbow.

"Urgh... Didn't have to be so rough with your tail."

The old lizard slunk to his feet with a staff in tow, while warily eyeing the "treant". He haughtily replied, "Heh- Just in case, Lyra. Just in case. My old bones just can't control its own strength these days."

Lydon, the supposedly dead healer, lied through his teeth. Despite being aged and a shamanic healer, he still had quite a bit of physical strength behind his tail

 _What the..._

Lyra spotted the creature still hugging a trunk. It never moved from its original spot, making her momentarily ponder on how much of what she had seen was real.

Mihal, the draconic-demon, who was the vanguard, glared at the unknown existence with constricted pupils.

The unlikely trio came to a staredown with the creature, fiercely staring it down as they meekly whispered strategies to each other. A single move may mark the end of this encounter.

"Lyra, let me put you under a small hypnosis spell," offered Lydon.

Hypnosis did not affect targets already under hypnosis. Therefore, in preparation to counteract the creature's fearsome ability, Lydon put Mihal and himself under hypnosis before entering this forest.

Lyra curled her lips in disdain.

"I may have left the Order of the Elves like my elder sister... but to be an object of a lizard's device..."

Mihal interjected by spitefully spitting out, "Cease your pointless squabbling. For all the pride and honour you bear, you're nothing more than a walking corpse... waiting to be cut down."

The tarsier creature decided to make its move again. It vanished from the light of the forest into the shadows.

"Now or never, elf! Are your ranger eyes for decoration!? I'm not here to protect you!"

Wincing at the remark, her mouth was silenced, her breaths grew slow, and her eyes' tempered gaze sharpened with steely resolve.

Lydon channelled magic through wooden staff to set a psyche barrier in Lyra's mind.

Mihal's minotaur hooves dented the ground, supported by his muscular draconic legs beneath the sagging pants. He assumed his combative stance to grind for a little time.

His strained eyes swept from left or right.

 _Above._

A soul-curdling metal claws snagged a lance like a branch that was flying towards the backlines.

Created from soul steel, the pair of claws were particularly eye-catching. It gave off essences that were not of the living.

However – it was not time to be awed by them.

Barrages of lances followed in suit from random directions at the defenceless two but Mihal's speed was more than enough to cover the ones behind him.

Death by a thousand cuts, a tried and true strategy.

Mihal was going to knock one more projectile out of flight but his claws passed right through it.

 _A fake? An illusion?_

Mihal knocked down three more lances before...

 _… it happened again!_

Mihal was slowly but surely being pushed back. At the beginning, he intercepted all the lances, but too many fake ones were being riddled in with unpredictable patterns. He was only defending against necessary ones.

Being on the defensive was certain loss. Therefore-

Strange blood marks from the deltoids of his Wolfen arms glared an angry red.

"Witness the steel of my heart! Forged over a thousand battles! [Metallic Hurricane]!"

The surrounding trees within a giant's step radius fell like lumber and shredded scraps of logs. If the remaining enemy somehow managed to survive the attack, it would be drowned by the piles of wood blocks.

"I don't move as well as I used to… be careful would you?"

"And my delicate ears! You almost…!"

"Tch. Congrats for dodging..."

Although the Mihal's comment seemed to be an insult towards his own team, it was an indication that the beast that was no longer in visual sight.

It was not dead, for faint movements in the earth could be felt.

Aiming to instantaneously impale their skulls, seven-metre earth spikes came at an unrelenting pace.

Mihal dodged and used his metal claws to destroy the spikes, whereas Lydon sidestepped and used his tail to fragment them. Lyra swung around the earth spikes gracefully as a forest elf would when hopping between trees.

Similar to the lances, there were fake illusionary spikes too. Small grazes to the clothes and flesh were accumulating. As more blood was drawn, the more aggressive the onslaught seemed to become.

Being an elf, Lyra felt the flow of nature and earth's energies. She sensed the mystical energies directly below Lydon tainted by a malicious intent.

"Lydon! Get your derriere out of there!"

"My wah?"

 _There's no time,_ thought Lyra.

Like the others, spikes came right for Lyra's head. However, rather than dodging the impaler, she swiftly kicked her boot's blade into it and used the spike's momentum to thrust herself high into the air.

Lyra locked onto Lydon current position.

"Wind spirits heed my call. Fly true and straight, pierce the heart of evil! [Silver Hunter]!"

The recoil from the shot pushed the elf into a triple backflip before landing like a feather onto the ground. The arrow flew straight with roaring vigour at the lizardman, forcing him to take a giant leap to evade it.

–Impact.

Soil, dust, leaves, and grass blades exploded into a lotus flower. The violent surge tossed the lizardman into a further 20-metre roll.

When the lizardman crawled back up, he instinctively wanted to curse, but he saw what was standing in his place.

"By the scales of my old bones, what is that?"

The python that has appeared was attached to the tarsier as a tail. The python and tarsier together was the size of five fully grown men.

As a very care few may know, this creature was a Nue.

When the barky, plant exterior of the Nue crumbled, a small splatter of green blood was seen on the serpent's head.

It was not the smell of animal blood, for the pugnacious scent of freshly mashed grass pierced their nostrils. It was a strange viscous fluid that smelled like sap, the blood of plants.

"So, it not just a mere treant. A rodent attached to a snake."

The python's head made a threatening snare. It tasted the air with slithers of its tongue.

The trio stared upon the aberration.

A twisted plant burrowed its roots in the left torso, along with defiled geas energies seeping with every pulse of the heart. The skin, broken in long tatters, showed a soft stem protected where the flesh faltered. The plant was slightly translucent, exhibiting the inner workings that lay beneath, quivering.

In comparison to the left side, the right side still had its thick brown fur. If this tarser-python mix was miniature sized, it may have been just adorable enough to take home as a pet.

A contrast of dreams and nightmares.

The Nue stood on its hind legs to take a threatening stance, acknowledging the skills of the adversaries before it. It presented its menacing vine entangled half.

"Daifuku...? Are you not Lord Daifuku?"

This so-called Daifuku creature locked eyes with Lyra.

"You, who shot the arrow, I recognise that technique. Please, remove your hood."

Mihil glanced at Lydon but he shook his head in response, confirming they were not under the effects of a mental effect.

Lydon held his tongue from saying "It talks" in surprise. Senseless remarks would only spew hatred from those with substantial pride.

Both Mihil and Lydon seemed to be under consensus in letting Lyra do the talking, and act on the developing situation.

Lyra, along with most elder elves, knew this creature well.

The creature was once a loyal servant of those regarded as the Six Gods. Since the passing of the Six Gods, this creature took up residence in the Elven Forests with his partner. He brought along with it many knowledge and skills that the elves adopted and rebranded as their own.

There were secrets of the world taught to him by the Six Gods, which only he understood, remaining incomprehensible to the elves.

"Do you... recognise me, Lord Daifuku? A long time ago, I consulted you about information magic."

Lyra was there to see it being exiled from the Elven Forests. The creature was not sentenced to death for its betrayal because of its mass contribution. Its betrayal was also a dubious subject, as it was neither entirely unjustified nor illogical.

Lyra removed her hood and continued to address the creature with respect.

"Elf? A long time ago...? How many suns and moons, springs and falls was it…?"

It seemed to be deep in thought.

"... I have been alone for so long…"

"Yes," said Lyra softly. "It has been at least 520 cycles of moon since then... or around 44 years ago."

The creature's ears twitched at one word, "Years". It clutched and shook its head in pain as images flashed in its mind.

"E-elven C-council... Ne-nego-tiations with men... Trading..."

"Lord... Daifuku?"

A vicious aura seeped into the surrounding and suffocated the plants. The once-blooming flowers withered. The flourishing greenery deteriorated into a sickly yellow, and then a deathly black.

The beast burst with overwhelming anger and hatred.

"Years... a measurement created by men! The ancestors quake to see this one using it!"

"Lord Daifuku, please calm down!"

Ignoring Lyra, it continued to roar with vigour.

"Prepare yourselves!" instructed Mihil. He did not know what just happened or why negotiations have broken down but a fight was definitely brewing.

Lydon immediately prepared his wand and chanted in an ancient tongue. A warm light was glowing at the tip of it, seeming to dissipate the nearby gooey black aura.

"W-wait! Just give me a moment!" pleaded Lyra.

The shadow of a lord snarled, a rough bark grew to protect it as it artlessly lunged towards Mihal. Whatever prowess in combat it showed before had degraded to even less than that of a rabid beast.

"Elf! Time is finite! If you are unwilling to fight, then stay out!"

The thorny fingers clashed against the metal claws in a straight up slashing match. Although the wielder of the metal claws had a healer backing him, he did not appear to have the advantage.

"Why did you make a pact with the devil!?"

The beast had to obligation to answer the elf, yet, he did. Winds picked up drastically, wailing in sync with the beast's painful howl.

"My wife, my yet to be born child...! Both of them robbed from me... by those furless…!"

The minotaur hooves stagger backwards from a strike delivered by the beast's palm.

"… treacherous…!"

A slam from the python-tail forced the draconic legs to take a knee.

"… monkeys!"

A round kick blew the draconic-demon a fair distance back, leaving skid marks on the ground.

"Everything was taken!"

Mihal was annoyed at how Lyra's question seemed to aggravate the beast to fight better. He was annoyed, but had conflicting feelings, as a tough fight made his blood boil.

"Your madam would never have wanted this."

Both of the beast's heads glared angrily at the elf.

"Don't. You. Dare. Conjure words in their stead!"

Mihal took the initiative of the beast's distraction to launch a surprise from a blind spot at the back.

However, an opening was not so easily found. Two spikes from the ground intercepted and created a wall between them.

The spikes did not stop or slow Mihal down. Rather, he tackled one of the spikes to break it, and without reducing his speed, plunged the spike into the fur covered hips. A blow intended to weaken and immobilise the opponent.

The land behind the beast crinkled like a carpet being pushed together.

-It hit...

But, not to Mihal's liking. The tip of the spike shattered on the hardened fur.

"Tch..."

The beast countered with an uppercut, which Mihal blocked by using the spike. However, the uppercut smashed through the spike and landed squarely on Mihal's scaly chest, throwing him into the air.

An air time combo was done by the serpent tail. It tightly wrapped the draconic-demon and tossed him to the ground.

Lyra manipulated some of the winds to provide a slightly softened landing.

Mihal coughed blood. A few ribs were probably broken, puncturing the very lungs it was meant to protect.

Lydon wanted to focus solely on healing Mihal but everyone was constantly being grazed by the razor particles in the wind. The cloth-based armour they wore provided little protection. It was the constant healing that prevented the three of them from being torn to bits.

"What if at least your child survived!? What if..."

"Pointless, pointless, pointless, pointless...! For all I care, my child, my grandchild, or my great grandchild could be an enlarged rat with a snake tail! Maybe a majestic knight will pick it up as his pet!"

"Sorry, Lyra," Lydon cut in. "But, if you are not fighting..."

Healing magic stopped channelling to Lyra.

Lyra shuddered; it was not from the pain of the wounds opening, but from the thought that even ones as wise fell this far into despair.

The elf drew her crossbow and started a solemn pray-like chant.

"Father of heavens, Mother of earth, hear my quiet plea~"

The elf's crossbow shone with the radiance of the piercing dawn.

"~Let the shadows be banished with nature's light~"

The beast, on the other hand, began its own ominous chant.

Vines from the beast's right side grew and extended like tentacles. They penetrated deep into mother earth in search of veins to sap power from.

"I, who existed before the dawn of men, deem them as the coming plague. I shall cleanse all that was, is, and will be born of them! And, all that is tainted by their touch will be erased!"

No one here was about to let the beast finish its spell.

"You're open!"

Metal claws came for the beast's eye...

… but it did not reach. The python tail snared the arm and dangled the wielder, who was struggling and squirming to break away.

"What now!? You can't hit me without hitting your friend!"

It was a bait by the seemly out of control beast.

Lyra remained unfazed by the taunt and continued her chant.

"~ Tried and true is my aim, nature guide my hands~"

The shred of doubt did not even cross the elf. So much so, one would question if she saw her comrade squirming.

 _Squirming?_

The beast took another look at the prize seized by the python tail. The beast realised what had been caught was not the wielder of the metal claws but a detached lizard's tail.

"Hehe," snickered the lizardman. "As a caster of light-based magic, I can pull off illusions, too."

The beast tossed the lizard's tail aside and wretched energy from the earth. The evil plant ate further into the creature and the earth.

Then, in the vehement realm, a spatial distortion formed in the beast's hands. Static electricity embezzled the sickly form.

"~ Darkness flee~! [Silver Judgement]!"

Lyra launched her arrow.

Both the draconic-demon and lizardman wasted no time in follow up.

"My heart of steel, blood of fire! Vengeance of thousands I have fell! [Claws of Inferno Damnation]!"

"Lizardmen, direct descendants of the one true Ancestor. I call upon duality blessings to clad my comrades with your holy vitality! [Tempest Heart]!"

The land will erupt under the vehement clash of different energies, throwing everything into chaos. Woven silks of creation will be undone...

… or so the three expected to happen.

However – the beast dispelled its own vortex of energy. A small smile formed on the distorted face before being shredded into dust particles without the hint of resistance.

"Thank… you."

…

…

…

 _Drip, drip, drip~_

Rain droplets fell one after another, muffling the searing heat and deathly smell. The sky started to lament and cry.

Lyra was collapsed on her knees under a tree, while Lydon assumed a meditative pose and slowly healed her.

The deep gashes, which were caused by the prolonged exposure of the razor winds, were zipping themselves close. Cells to cells, tissues to tissues, the wounds came to a neat and unblemished formation.

Without forgetting, Lydon's own tail was eventually taking shape.

"Tch..."

Mihal leant against a tree and reflected bitterly on their battle. The battle was won but their morale was broken.

"… In the end, that thing never took us seriously."

If the beast fought the way it had at the beginning, utilising trickery and skills, they would eventually have been worn down without ever finding an opening. They knew they had barely won with only three.

Lydon suggested, "Maybe he just couldn't anymore."

Hypnosis and illusions required high levels of concentration and mental capacity. It would explain if the infestation had corroded most of its mind.

Lyra hugged her knees.

"Speaking without a brain..."

An indirect insult but it did highlight a fault in his suggestion.

After more moments of silence, Mihal started to talk.

"Elf, you know...," began Mihal with a pause, "… If _it_... uhh..."

"Daifuku," reminded Lyra.

"… Daifuku...," said Mihal, "... Did he really lose to despair?"

The elf ears adjusted themselves. She remained quiet for Mihal to speak.

"He was dumb... pathetic... useless... ditcher... but he did the things he did for those he cared for."

Lyra burst, "And what do you know of him!?" before looking at Mihal in tears.

"Nothing. But, no insane person would do what he did."

"You two stop right there," interrupted Lydon. He clapped his hands twice as he normally does when finishing healing.

"Hmph."

Mihal and Lyra turned their head away from each other.

Lydon sighed as he scratched his dragon beard.

Whenever they were out of battle, Lydon acted as a mediator between the two since joining the group of 13. No. A grandfather of the group tasked with caring for two children if one willed it.

In reality, Lydon was probably at least half a century younger than the two.

 _How lucky... races that age slowly... or am I just being sentimental._

Lydon took a glance at Mihal, who kept his stance.

"As awkward as always..."

Lydon focused on the sky and rambled on his thoughts.

"Lyra, if he hated everything so much... why did he not simply rampage through cities and destroy everything?"

"…"

Lyra was quiet but she did not seem to be against Lydon's rambling.

"Lyra, when Daifuku enacted his revenge, do you think he felt happiness? Do you think he felt fulfilment? Do you think he felt accomplishment?"

"That's…"

Lyra hesitated.

"I cannot give a yes or no, but... the moment he finished his deed, he would look back. Blood... on him, his hands. Not his smiling family, nor the content on the faces closest to him."

Lyra woefully asked, "Then why did he say nothing? Are we were at fault for exiling him?"

Lydon shook his head in disagreement.

"Losing everything... in fear of himself… even if you guys didn't exile him, he was likely to enter solitude on his own accord. He distanced himself so he wouldn't hurt others. However…"

Lydon sighed.

"… while many seek solitude, it is a nurturing mother of none and a breaker of all..."

 _… Perhaps..._

"… Perhaps, he was aiming to end his own suffering. He wanted to die with a sane mind. There was no other reason to drag out our best."

Lydon lifted his head.

"Oops... Am I still rambling?"

Things were becoming awkward with silence between the three, but, luckily, the sun drew aside the curtain of clouds to bid greetings.

Silently, Lyra balanced herself on her feet. Her glare caught Mihal's eyes.

"It's not like I'm happy for your concerns or anything but... th-thank..."

Before Lyra could finish announcing her gratitude, an unfathomable event happened. The thin leftover strands of fabric, which were holding her cloth-based armour together, gave out on the chest.

Though Lyra caught it just in time to not reveal anything crucial, Mihal was stunned, followed by his life flashing before him.

Lyra stormed off.

Lydon exhaled a breath of relief; he was spared from a world of pain only because he was positioned behind Lyra.

After Lyra disappeared Lydon looked at the figure playing dead.

"Pfft...," Lydon could not hold onto his urges to laugh, "… Hahaha..."

"Stop laughing lizardman and help me out."

"I'm out of mana to heal you. Besides, you can recover from that easily with a night's sleep. Honestly, why are mammalians infatuated with such things? Are you perhaps inexperienced with females despite your age?"

"I'm not _infatuated,_ " denied Mihal strongly, as he turned to rest on his side.

Lydon remarked, "Pretty sure you could've dodged those strikes from her if you weren't."

Mihal dragged his face out of the soil to lie on his side, with his hand and arm supporting his head.

"The experience you talked about... sounds a little too personal. And, why is the elf behaving a bit... weird"

"We've all had our own share of dark past," said Lydon. "As for Lyra..."

Lyra left the Elven Forest after the loss of her niece. The mixed blooded offspring of human and elf was never given the chance was never given the chance to see the light of day.

To Lyra, the niece was nothing less of a little angle cuddled in her dear elder sister's arms. Too soon and eagerly did the angel come, and untainted by the evils of this world before she departed.

However – an abomination, a monster, and curse were just some of the names given to the pieces of macerated flesh sprouted from her elder sister's womb. The creation was prejudged to be less than a filthy mark among the prideful elves.

Lyra, unwilling to ruin her beautiful memory with elven bitterness, turned her back on her own kind. She selfsihly left on a lonely journey to seek her own ideals and answers without even telling her sister.

In a strange twisted fate, Lyra was recruited.

Lydon knew not of Lyra's past but decided it was better to redirect Mihal's attention elsewhere. Thus, he by dropped a bomb…

"... I forgot to undo my hypnosis."

Lyra was very direct and formal, whether it was giving thanks or apologies. It was the first time she had stumbled on her own words.

The hypnosis Lydon applied had a simple effect: it slightly altered their outwards display of emotions. It was quite useful in battle as it prevents opponents from reading information easily but now...

"So instead of her usual cold facial expressions, we get this...?"

Lydon nodded in response.

Mihal's face did not hide anything. His expression was one that said, "Uwah... she's going to kill you." He, himself, had Lydon dispel it right after the battle.

"She's cuter like this, isn't she? If no one else notices, it didn't happen."

Mihal knew that Lydon was jesting but it reminded him of a concern.

"Speaking of notice, do you find something... unworldly... weird with those two?"

Lydon jogged his memory to recall the appearances of the other 10 members.

Numerous amounts of evil beings began appearing all over the place at an unprecedented pace a year ago. Thus, the 13 decided to subdivide into 4 smaller groups to tackle these simultaneous awakenings.

The public, in their own ignorance, dubbed these evil plant awakenings Evil Deities. However, what the public refers to Evil Deities are completely different to what the 13 refer to as Evil Deities.

The 13 did not consider these plants as Evil Deities, but rather, the ones causing this breakout.

Even with ample preparations, it was said that the beginning seven barely managed to scrap victory against a half-woman and half-goat. By comparison, these evil plants are only but a fraction in power.

 _The leader and vice-leader_ appeared in Lydon's mind. Although every one of the other 10 had some outstanding features, these two had his utmost attention.

 _Those two did not have a chant, did they?_

The foundation of magical knowledge dictated the requirement of chants when activating powerful magic. For chants were for the purpose of establishing connection to one's God, an unknown force.

 _Do these two not draw power from God?_

"Mihal, what are you trying to force here?" asked Lydon. He pondered quietly as Mihal was making his point

"Lizardman, I'm sure you have sensed it. It feels like they are… holding back… something chaotic beneath the skin. We are only able to do what we can do now because of our items, but..."

A couple of years ago, the team of 12 all received an item each from the Platinum Dragon Lord when they received a summoning to the Floating Castle. Lyra received a crossbow, Lydon received a wand, and Mihal received a pair of claws to name a few. During that time, a strange person in a silver suit of armour decided to join the team, adding to the current 13.

With the treasures, the 13 have stepped into a realm where others classified them as heroes. Understandably, most of the heroes decided to keep their items a secret, as they identify as important trump cards.

"… don't you get the feeling that even if _those_ two didn't receive items, their combat prowess far out-stretches our own?" asked Mihal.

It was speculated the leader and vice-leader also struck some sort of deal with the dragon. That would only be possible if both parties stood on equal grounds.

"Mihal," said Lydon in a sturdy voice. "I recommend you don't probe any deeper."

"Why?"

"People who are too absurdly strong… are outcasts, _different_. You, of all people, understand that feeling very well. They, too, perhaps want to avoid that..."

Despite their differences, Mihal deeply respected Lydon's insight. Lydon was not the ex-leader of a lizardman clan for nothing.

"… Everyone has their own reason for hiding something."

Mihal shuffled in his spot. It stings to hear the truth.

Mihal mumbled to himself, "The next child inheriting the Sword of Darkness…"

The current Sword of Darkness user has retired due to old age and was training his talented grandson to inherit the sword. This was a hidden fact from the public.

The strength granted by the sword was enviable but the one wielding it will walk a path of loneliness.

"Mihal, Mihal, Mihal...," Lydon resumed in a light tone. "You have a soft heart, don't you?"

"Huh?"

"Not only are worried about the other groups, you are also worried for the inheritor of the sword. You are quite the nice and gentle guy, aren't you?"

"Don't screw with me old man!"

Lydon sank his eyes back into the tranquil blue sky.

 _The real question comes to Platinum Dragon Lord and that person in the suit of armour... they know too much_.

"Rest up. We are to clear out undead after this," Lydon thought to himself for a second and chuckled softly. "There is no rest for the damned."

 **-XXX-**

Outside the ruins of Teh Etherian, there were 15 teams consisting of four to six adventurers, followed by one soldier.

Most of the technical work was to be left to the soldier, such as marking cleared areas, setting up explosives at strategical points, and communicating with other teams.

Sigurd briefed each group with their own objectives and sent them off.

"There goes they(r) go(f)," said Keeno.

Momon gave an indifferent nod to Keeno but an imaginary frown formed underneath the helmet.

It was the twilight hour; the time when undead were known to be at their most active.

Hunting and fighting undead at their strongest seemed counterintuitive. On the other hand, since undead creatures tend to move above ground during the night, the risk of them suddenly ambushing from beneath drastically decreases. This was especially true for centipede skeleton, corpse tarantulas, and visceral worms.

However, the main issue laid elsewhere.

The larger forms of undead in Yggdrasil were around level 20s. In comparison, Suvia's estimated level by Yggdrasil standards was a little under 20. Assuming Suvia was the strongest here, along with monsters' levels being similar in this world, it meant everyone here was up for a possibly impossible battle.

Players in Yggdrasil could hunt monsters outside their level range with proper preparation and tactics, but was reality here so kind?

The Captain, who came back half dead, dictated everyone's alertness. _Something_ here did _that_ to the Captain. This _something_ was unknown and dangerous, yet, not many could afford to backdown.

A bad reputation from abandoning missions would only welcome further uncertainties in the future. Adventurers, in particular, were a profession many turned to at wit's end. A thorny path that was secondary to none.

The soldiers and the adventurers shared the same resolution.

Egas explained these things well beforehand.

Momon became more and more worried as he watched the ragtag groups depart. He cared not for unknown random people dying, but the thought of Keeno encountering an unfavourable experience was displeasing.

Facing death was completely normal in the adventuring profession...

… _but is it really okay for Keeno to experience such things? w_ as one of the many thoughts running through the empty skull.

"Well, well, well... Guess we are left with easy guarding duty."

Egas interrupted in the usual fashion and approached with Aria.

It was an understatement. They were guarding an important supply point in the outskirts. Hence, it was a job left to those with dependable strength.

Egas knew it well but he decided to casually play it off to lighten the mood.

To the inexperienced, however, it did seem like a position delegated to the weak, as the weak would only get in the way.

The undisclosed reason was for Sigurd to keep a strict eye on them. With Suvia out of commission, Sigurd took it upon herself to fulfil the request given by Marquise Ian Vermillion Fasris.

Aria's voice sounded of sweet melancholy.

"The land is courting death, a forgotten God~ His return has brought this blight, an infestation. The only salvation here is only through death~"

Momon and Keeno blankly looked at Aria.

 _What?_

Egas scratched his head.

"Ahh... She's in that mode again… I'll translate. She's saying that someone or something has caused all this. We need to find the source and destroy it. Personally though... I'm not sure if the cause is the same as what's maintaining the grim aura around here as well."

"What do you mean?" asked Momon.

"Hmm...," pondered Egas a bit before explaining. "In this town, there seems to be something is drawing the undead here. Normally, they walk around brainlessly, scattering in random directions."

The helmet sounded with a nod so Egas continued his explanation.

"Whatever has caused this outbreak could be different to whatever they are being attracted to…"

As the two men entered discussion, Aria hugged Keeno from behind and rested her luggage on Keeno's head. They have had grown on each other like this.

"Mmm~ Bliss from shoulder pain~," said Aria. Her face relaxed into a "=u=".

"…"

Keeno shuffled away from Aria's hold.

"Mmm~? Where are you going, Keeno?"

The small pair of hands tugged on the red cape. Momon turned towards the sensation to find Keeno.

"It's(f) st(w)arted."

A crackle, an explosion, the resounding of delicate metal…

The vague scent of gunpowder and... iron. Blood… blood was in the air.

"Are we not going(h) to help(f)?"

A black gauntlet held the small girl's shoulder. A gesture for her to stay put here.

"Pe-o(f)ple... awre dying."

The signs of life were slowly diminishing in the mental radar.

 _W-what is this?_ thought Momon in surprise. He had not noticed it until now, but there was an intertwining between undead and life reaction right beside him.

 _Keeno… Is the source from Keeno?_

Momon inspected the little girl closely. She replied with a "Wa?" in blushes.

The canines on the small girl had become as prominent as they were on the first night. It explained the return of her strange pronunciations. It was a distinct vampire trait _._

 _Why have these traits resurfaced? She'll be in danger if anyone here finds out…_

Momon cursed himself for not noticing sooner that the return of her queer pronunciations were the return of these traits.

According to rumours, vampires remains sell highly as alchemic goods in cities further away.

The black gauntlets hastily grabbed the small hands but the sabatons only moved half a step before being stopped.

"I haven't permitted you to join the battle, you know?"

Siguard deduced wrongly. Momon wanted to abandon this quest.

Momon kept his back towards Siguard, while Keeno peeked from behind the red cape.

…

…

…

The rattling of bones and the groans of zombies resounded as the small group of adventurers proceeded down the street.

A hulking figure leading the charge slammed his shield into a skeleton archer. The weight behind the tackle crushed the ribcage and incapacitated the skeleton archer with relative ease.

The hulk regained balance and shouted, "Oi! Nyl, keep up. The lunar mistress ain't flashing her's tonight."

"Shut up, Foddor! This branch is heavy enough! And now I'm also carrying a torch! Why couldn't we buy some real weapons!?"

Nyl, like the rest of his team, was carrying a shabby wooden club carved out of the trunks of a fallen tree. Despite the weapon's rough appearance, it was more than enough to bash open craniums and crush rotten limbs.

"You're kiddin'! Like hell I'm gonna spend good money on these weaklings, just suck it up," retorted Foddor, as another skeleton crumbles under the assault of his own makeshift club.

"Why the fuck did we take this bloody request in the first place?" another figure muttered.

"Well, Roland, the pay on this commission is crazy good f'er the job. Just look how fast these undead are fallin'. We'll be outta of he'r with our gold coins in a couple days."

Not just "a" single gold coin shared between the group of six, but rather, one for the each of the individuals. No one could argue against on having such a good deal, as one gold coin could take weeks to months to earn with hard labour.

Roland yearned for easy money, but simultaneously, was cautious.

"Urgh. Goddamn," complained a figure following Roland. His clothing was splashed by a zombie's cranial fluids before asking, "But, what about that Capt…?"

"F'er the love of Surshana, Ingvar," cut in Fodder. "She's a woman. She don't belong here, like ya' don't bring y'er missus here."

"Then why did we bring you along?" smirked Ingvar.

This group of noisy figures were the members of the silver adventuring team led by Foddor, "Ogre's Fists". It was a fitting name for the four-man team comprised of brute, brute, brute and bigger brute. Although they bulldozed their way up the ranks of adventurers through sheer strength, they have been stuck at silver for many years.

-Brute, brute, brute, and bigger brute.

Hm? Four? There should be five of them. Six if the soldier was included.

"Oi… Wher's our bucket boy and tin can man?"

A hefty _swish~_ was heard, but not from any of the team members.

"Oh, shit what's that thing!?" shouted Ingvar while pointing at the abomination of bone and flesh coiling on itself.

The mismatched pairs of rotten arms and legs, attached to the numerous segments of a chilopod, dragged the bone plated body around the corner. The soldier's baggage dangled from the left antenna of the hideous creature.

 _I'll be damned. It noticed…_

Formed through the thick miasma, this 15-meter-long voracious monstrosity clicked its ghastly jaws at them.

Nyl's legs were cemented solid.

"Ha! You scared, Nyl? We'll crack 'em like the rest."

"Wait. Foddor, isn't that a centipede skeleton?"

"Huh? A centi—whoa."

The centipede darted at the group and utilised the momentum to whip its rear-end, the pseudo-head, to strike at Foddor with the pair of bony, razor hooks.

Fodder blocked using the club in his hands.

Correction. _Fodder was_ _going to_ but he instinctively took a step back. There were times when instincts override logic and this was one of them.

The hook pierced the piece of wood, halting from his eyeball with an atom's length to spare.

Regardless of how Foddor behaves, he was still a seasoned veteran and a leader. A second was all he needed to bark his next commands.

"Oi, snap out of it and help me out!"

Nyl discarded the torch he was carrying to hold the club with both hands.

Ogre's Fists charged and swung at the plated pseudo-head and leg of the undead.

 _Fuurach._

The sticks broke upon the hardened carapace, becoming nothing more than useless stumps. Ogre's Fists was stupefied at their now useless weapons and their failure to even blemish the shell.

A typical opening created by the innate behaviour of such creatures…

The centipede wasted no time and freed itself from the scrap piece of wood. Its jaws lashed and decapitated Roland. The cut was not clean, but rather, a ruthless tear at the cervical spine.

Roland's last heartbeats sprayed innards and blood onto Fodder, as the creature's bone scythes swept with thin trailing blood.

The remaining crew hastily leaned back or drop rolled out of the way, whereas Roland's body was sliced at the torso again and thrown against crumbling walls.

The long creature stood itself up, making its appearance more threatening than ever. It seemed to be studying its prey in a condescending manner, contemplating on the first one to consume and assimilate as another segment.

"What do we do now, Foddor!?"

Foddor's mind raced but it had no answer for Nyl.

"Fear not, my comrades!" Ingvar stood back up and exclaimed, "I shall decimate it with my powerful magic"

"Wait, wot!?"

"I have been hiding this power for a bit now. This sort of enemy should be but a piece of cake."

 _I am gonna kill this fuckwit,_ cursed Fodder. He was infuriated at Ingvar's sudden declaration. The last thing he ever needed was almost being screwed over by a hero wannabe.

Ingvar used to be in the military. He should know more than anyone here that hiding such crucial information was meaningless and destructive among a team.

However – it was not the time for an argument.

"Then hurry up with it! We'll distract it!"

Foddor and Nyl split up and ran towards opposite sides of the centipede.

The monster's movement became awkward and the striking strength decreased significantly. It was, perhaps, an unknown Gods' blessings that the undead were unintelligent without a proper commander.

Blow for blow, Foddor and Nyl managed to either deflect or dodge the centipede with minimal injuries.

Not saying anymore, Ingvar rushed the centipede head on.

Why? Why did Ingvar not just abandon? Why not live today and fight another?

There were two choices: getting killed immediately in midst of combat or slowly suffering to death of society's scorning gaze. The former seemed much more appealing with possibility of rewards if one was to survive.

"With this punch, I shall obliterate those who stand in my way! [Shattering Punch]!"

-crack

The glowing fist connected with the skeleton centipede's side, shattering every bone in its body and vaporising its very form. The attack utterly decimated the once seemingly invulnerable undead…

… was what happened in Ingvar's mind.

"AHHHH! My hand!"

A small visible dent appeared on the skeletal armour but another attack as such was out of the question.

Ingvar guarded his hand in pain, as the centipede swivelled around to meet eye-to-eye with undivided attention.

The beast had determined Ingvar to be the most threatening target. It heaved itself high into the air, and then lunged for a full body slam.

Ingvar looked on dumbfounded as if the heavens was about to fall on him.

 _Does my resolution only amount to this…?_

"Ingvar, get out of the way!" yelled Nyl, as he threw a flaming torch.

The torch struck the bag on the antenna, smearing it with the same combustible goo. The gooey substance on the bag ignited with ease before the torch was thrown to a random nearby distance.

Foddor tackled Ingvar, making both of them roll out of harm's way.

The centipede hit the terrain with a tremor, and then continued to sway to and fro in attempt to get rid of the flaming bundle. However, the straps of the bag were caught by the irregular spiky protrusions on the antenna.

As the materials of the bag began spontaneously combusting, the flames became larger and brighter.

 _Three_ … the bag straps were eaten.

 _Two_ … the straps became ever so thin.

 _One_ … the straps fully broke.

 _Zero_ … the bag started to fall.

Nevertheless, the centipede skeleton could not move away from blast radius before detonation.

The area was showered in charred rotten flesh and bone fragments, as the remains of the centipede fell to the ground.

The monster's half head was attached to the body by a relatively thin collum. In effect, the blast removed one quarter of the undead.

 **Centipede skeleton**

 **\\{x,..** \- ½ Blasted away head

 **\\_(-**

 **\\_(+** \- ½ Blasted away upper body

 **\\_(+]**

 **\\_(+]**

 **\\_(+][**

 **\\_(+][+**

 **/- (+][+]-\**

 **/- (+][+]-\**

 **/- (+][+]-\**

 **/- (+][+]-\**

 **/- (+][+]-\**

 **/- (+][+]-\**

 **/- \VV/-\**

It twitched and tried to get up.

"Stay de'd will ya!"

Fodder brought down the shield like a guillotine and smashed through the remaining attachments to the head.

A few more twitches ensued and eventually came to a stop.

Breaths were heavy.

"I'll be damned. Nice thinkin'."

Nyl had neither the energy nor the state of mind to make a remark to Foddor.

Ingvar grimaced as he crawled back up. He then ripped a piece of cloth from his own wear and grabbed a random bone. The cloth was wrapped around his hand and the bone splint to immobilise movement of the hand.

"Damn. Healing potions were in that bag. Won't be doing that again."

A bright red light illuminated the darkened sky. The retreat flare diminished to a twinkle and was engulfed by blackness.

Was it an emergency or was it completion of the objective for tonight?

It didn't matter. Their losses were too great and their resources were too depleted to continue.

"We should take this chance to go back and recover," suggested Nyl.

Heads nodded and the survivors gave a breath of relief in unison… too soon.

A small rumble and…

… like a hydra, when one head falls, two more will grow.

Two more centipede skeletons emerged from underground in the fallen one's place.

No. That's not right. The second one was a visceral worm.

Countless human and animal organs lined the external body, ejecting viscous fluids to assist it move around. The slimy fluid seemed to have slightly acidic properties that ate even into itself, sending pugnacious odour into the air.

Every inch of the bleating and squirming creature was nauseating.

Its squishy, flattened body rhythmically contracted and extended, while the cartilage bristles anchored the soil. It pushed itself forward in such slovenly manner ever so slowly.

Acidic slime oozed with each contraction and fizzled out the remaining dim ember glows of the torch.

A distinct _crunch_ and _splatter_ was heard as it moved uncaringly over one of Roland's body chunk.

The noise of the intense battle and the smell of freshly drawn blood must have attracted the other undead.

A marching of skeletons and zombies was heard in every direction.

A Kodoku, a Gu, a twisted ritual – the enormous creatures, which were no smaller than the first centipede skeleton, feasted upon their own fallen kind.

The silhouettes, artistically sculpted by the frail flicking fires, only served to make it all the more horrifying.

Ingvar looked towards Nyl, who admittingly was slightly smarter than the rest of them, for a response.

It was no good. Nyle was paralysed by fear.

 _Clank, clunk~_

It was the crisp ring of Foddor's favoured shield hitting the ground.

Foddor quickly glanced down, and then immediately moved his attention back.

The visceral worm lifted its head aloofly. Meanwhile, the centipede skeleton was clicking – an action Ogre's Fists knew too well.

Run – _To where?_

Hide – _Among what?_

Fight _– But how?_

"We… we're… de- de…"

The final word did not leave the trembling lips.

Despair, her touch, was oh so lovely. She was about to exhibit an exotic dance, yet, the beautiful choreography was obstructed behind a veil of murk.

The centipede was three meters, two meters, one meter…

… then darkness.

 _Was darkness meant to glimmer?_

The Dark Warrior slashed cleanly through the pseudo-head with one movement and jumped to decapitate the centipede skeleton's head with the next.

It was an elegant move, befitting of a master swordsmen.

Without wasting a single movement in mid-flight, he launched his enormous broadsword at the body of the visceral worm.

The sword struck the target hard and true, pinning the worm to the ground. Struggle as it might, it cannot wriggle free.

When he landed, it was almost as if a wall appeared between Ogre's Fists and the vile creature.

Murkiness and miasma lifted, as if the impact of his landing blew it away.

"Oi, becare…"

Words of concern were not needed.

The second enormous broadsword was unstrapped from the warrior's back, and in split seconds, the internal organs of the worm were spilling.

This time the Nyl's paralysis was not from fear but bewilderment of the sudden development. It was comparable to a scene of legends, described in expensive books and songs of bards.

A flicker of the wrist and the sword was seen dazzling in the minimal light source.

The Warrior stabbed his broadsword into an empty clearing.

However – a grand finale pose it was not, for the ground flapped and withered in agony. Eight legs of a "God knows what" corpse creature revealed itself and met true death himself.

Zombies after skeletons were destroyed, followed by skeletons after zombies falling.

In comparison to how Ogre's Fists' fight, the movement performed by the Dark Warrior were both powerful and elegant. The swings were firm but not crude. The steps were elegant but not weak.

It was mesmerising till the very end.

Nyl was the first one to speak up after the Dark Warrior disappeared from sight.

"Told you we needed real weapons."

Fodder nodded.

…

…

…

"[Fling Embers]!"

Embers of the tier one spell arced out from the staff, effortlessly igniting the dried bones of a couple skeletons. The skeletons fell and spontaneously combusted with weak flames.

More undead stepped forward in their fallen kind's place.

"Urgh…"

The user of the tier 1 spell was desperately trying to keep his consciousness from being engulfed.

Utilising the staff as a walking aid, he managed to a limp a few steps before collapsing on all-fours. There was a stab wound on his right thigh.

 _How stupid…_

Yet, he was the one done in by an undead playing dead. The looming shadows told the mage his predicament.

A skeleton in front raised its halberd high for execution. Even if this was the last undead in this area, the mage was drained empty of a reserve.

-It swung.

 _Pting~_

An arrow struck the dropping halberd and knocked it off course.

The skeletal head turned towards the arrow's direction.

 _Ptch, ptch~_

Another 2 arrows struck the skeletal eye sockets, causing the skeleton to stumble away from the mage. However, one arrow in each eye did not result in termination of the skeleton's animations.

"Ahhh~," sighed Aria in dejection. "Piercing weapons are no good after all. Keeno, if you please~"

Keeno giggled at the silly looking skeleton with the arrows stuck in its eye sockets, making her unable to cast a spell.

The little girl was handling things quite well despite the circumstances.

As per Momon's favour, Aria had subtly shielded Keeno from the more disturbing gore. In spite of that, Aria would have done the same even if she was not asked to for protecting Keeno's wellbeing.

"You have to concentrate~"

Aria placed her fire torch down and gave a small chop to the back of Keeno's head.

Keeno hugged her head and showed a "x.Q" face.

"So-sorwie."

 _Ptch~_

An arrow from Aria struck the spine of the skeleton, destroying a vertebral disk in the lumbar column. The skeleton looked like it was folded in half by gravity and its movements came to an end.

"That is one of the weak spots for skeletons like these~ Going for the head can be troublesome if you don't have blunt weapons~ And, remember to never walk over or near a semi-complete skeleton~"

Keeno nodded and took mental notes from Aria.

"You have a try now~ Remember what Momon and I taught you, okay~?"

Immediately, the little body fluttered around the area while calling out, "This way, this way!"

The zombies and skeletons instinctively flocked and dragged themselves towards the lure. Some of them were deceptively fast but Keeno was more agile.

"Th-that little girl. Ca-can she real-ly use magic?"

The witnessing mage had doubts.

Those who devote themselves to magic normally had poor physical capacities. Keeno seemed to defy this logic as she pranced and dragged around the undead horde.

"[Water…]"

Keeno raised her right hand and a faint red aura gathered. Her crimson eyes temporarily glimmered.

"[… Sli(s)cer]"

Almost as if it was a hot-knife through butter, the red tainted crescent stream diced 3 skeletons and 2 zombies in one horizontal cut at the waist. If the targets were by any chance males, they may have just been castrated.

Aria caught up and rubbed Keeno's head a few times.

"Good job, Keeno~"

 _If my child was still here… she would probably be the same age as Keeno,_ thought Aria.

To Aria, this little girl represented everything she was searching for: a proof that her own past was no one's fault, evidence that her own past was just a product of misfortune, and a hope for a fairy tale ending.

An answer she could show her younger sister, too.

 _Who am I joking!?_

Aria bit her own lips and cursed at her own self-indulgence. She realised she had only been using Keeno as a replacement.

"Mrs… A(w)ria…?"

"Nm~? Ah, I was caught up in a thought. Should we go…?"

Keeno stared at Aria's awkward smile through curious eyes.

"… I was… just about someone~ okay~?"

One did not reminiscence so deeply about ones near them.

Keeno felt that Aria was not referring to Egas. Perhaps, the little girl developed such senses from her own experience.

Aria walked past Keeno to hide from the inquisitive gaze.

"Is this someone… far away?"

"Stop!"

Aria widened her eyes, realising she raised her voice. Although she was agitated, there was no reason to shout at the child.

"S-so(w)rry. But, you seemed… sad. So, so, so…"

 _This little girl…_

"Keeno. Sorry for yelling at you~"

Aria hung her head and hugged the trembling girl in her bosoms to sooth her. When the little critter calmed, Aria began to talk.

"She's far, far away. It's very hard to see her again~ I've only cuddled her in my arms…"

The elf's voice trailed off but the sorrowful beat lingered.

"I think… Mrs Aria should meet her again."

"It's been so very long since~ What if she's forgotten... or hates me?"

After a brief moment of pondering, Keeno spoke up again. It was not that Keeno was scared to speak, but she simply had not completed her thought process.

"Because Mrs Aria is very nice."

"That's… it~?"

Aria was astonished at the simplicity of the reason.

Then again – the desire of heart is something that is often forgotten in the adult world.

"Un. I'm sure she'd love to be with you."

 _Hm? If she cuddled her, it must mean she was small,_ thought Keeno.

A motherly image, like those depicted in paintings and described in books, flashed in Keeno's mind. Rather regretfully, she could not compare it to her own experience.

Keeno refrained from mentioning Aria's maternal-likeness, for a shiver crawled down the little girl's spine. The blond girl remembered Sigurd's knuckle-sandwich when she drew an innocent comparison between her and an aunty.

"When this is over... um... I would like to spend some more time with you."

"Iya~ Keeno~!" cried Aria, which startled Keeno. "A promise, a definite promise~!"

Aria tightened her embrace and smothered Keeno by rubbing their cheeks together.

 _Warm... so very warm~ I want to protect this little girl~_

"Awaah…! S-st-st-stahp! Nnnn…," protested Keeno.

Keeno rummaged through her mind to find an excuse for Aria to stop.

"The Mis(h)ter collap(f)sed on the floor…"

The mage did not give thanks. He selfishly permitted his own merry departure to dreamland.

"Haa~," sighed Aria with a hint of content. "I guess you are right~ Egas, you can come out now~"

"You knew...? Didn't want to interrupt, " replied a familiar voice.

Egas awkwardly emerged from a shadow behind while scratching his bald spot. He was lagging behind because he was patching up the wounded left and right. After catching up, he did not reveal himself immediately.

Keeno turned to face the old man while behind cuddle from behind by Aria.

Aria queried Egas about Momon's whereabouts. While doing so, the elf eyes shifted from the old man to the young girl's head, and back to the old man ever so quickly.

Egas read Aria's intentions like an open book. Not wanting to upset the little girl with a solemn mood, he puckered up his chest and assumed his hearty behaviour.

"Hahaha... Our buddy is in much rush. Does he want to hold the ceremony so soon?"

The little maiden blushed in response and shifted her line of sight sideways.

"Kya~ How innocent~"

Aria playfully nudged Keeno.

Egas lowered his voice and asked Aria, "Do you want to go back after all this is over? It seems that after all these years, you have finally found your answer."

"That's...~"

As Egas and Aria were in their bubble, the crimson eyes narrowed on the unconscious mage's wrist, where a thin and delicate piece of golden chain was wrapped. There were small but visible bits of zombie skins hanging off the jewellery.

The mage most likely found it on one of the undead he slew.

Keeno slipped from the embrace and squatted to take a closer look.

It was a necklace with snapped ends. The design hinted that it was a part of another piece of jewellery.

"… This necklace…"

Keeno removed the necklace from the arm and grabbed out her own pendant.

"Keeno~?"

Aria bent over for a closer view.

"Keeno~? Are you alright~?"

Before anyone can register, blood was jetting and tracheal cartilages were spinning through the air.

Claws of a vampire…

 _[Message] Momonga-sama, my deepest apologies for interrupting you._

 **-XXX-**


	7. Chapter 6: Destination (Part 1)

**Destination (Part 1)**

 **-XXX-**

A shadow, dark like no other, seemed to tunnel into another world. The half-oval obsidian protruded from the earth by engulfing the surroundings in darkness. It was infinitesimally thin, yet unfathomably deep.

It was a spell known as [Gate], but it lacked splendour in contrast to the spell cast by Eight Greed Kings, for their versions of the spell were said to maneuver entire legions and armies. Nonetheless, this lesser version was still a tier of magic incomprehensible to most.

A lion-headed beastman stumbled out of the black abyss onto the sands of a desert. When the beastman frightfully opened his eyes, the fading light of an ending day met his pupils.

"Where am I? The war! I need to get back to the war!"

In the sky, he saw something that utterly defied his sense of logic.

"E-Eryuentiu? H-how can something so large…?"

Behind him, an ever-shifting shadow followed through the portal.

"CoRrEcT. THaT iS EryUentiU."

Although Jehivn loved witnessing the wonders and might of the Supreme Beings he served, there was no time to spare.

"What is the meaning of this? Do you bring another message as an envoy?"

A dishevelled spider arm extended from the shadows of his cloak and pointed towards the beastman's heart. If fear was negative energy, the fear the beastman created should produce enough energy to awaken the seed.

"No! This isn't what you promised me! You said you needed my strength to release the War Deity!"

"DiD i nOw? I wOndEr HoW MuCh oF wHAt I SaiD wAs TrUe."

The beastman's eyes constricted, fixated on the dangerous light emitting from the tip of the pus-filled gland at the end of the arachnoid arm. Noticing the black portal that remained open, he made a decision. If he could simply land one surprise strike with his claws, he could run through the portal back into his territory. Whether or not Jehvin was an Envoy of a God, the beastman simply thought he had a better chance on home territory.

Preparing a simple step-through stance, the beastman gave a roar and raised his fighting spirit. Tapping into his primal instincts, his mane stood on end and his claws lengthened. The roots, extending from the seed on his right deltoid, pulsated to his adrenaline pumped heartbeats. Sharpening his instinct to his utmost limits to capture all movements within 10 meters, he intended to release consecutive earthshattering blows to the monster in the veil of shadows.

—A straight dash towards Jehivn.

"Strike [Lion King's Fury]"

Unexpectedly —

"Argh-!"

A pain seized and seared his tendons, stopping him in his charge. His well-toned muscles bulged into uncanny shapes and back.

"Wh-what have you done to me!?"

"NoThInG."

Jehivn was nowhere near touching the beastman, but his stance suggested that he knew this was going to happen.

The beastman ripped off the remains of his shirt in a panic to see vines vigorously burrowing into his chest and heart. He roared and clenched the embedded seed in an attempt to forcefully remove it, but it only hurt himself further.

"Dammit! Dammit! Do something! You need me! You can't just let this happen! Anything. Anything!"

The seed should be nearing the state of maturity. The veins on his body were mostly replaced by the sprouting roots and vines started to erupt from his limbs. His eyes rolled backward, revealing their whites. No. Even the blood vessels in the eyes were dug into by fine roots.

"ARGH-!"

He felt the pain of a thousand icy needles in his skin, the pain of being dragged across a field of broken glass.

"The pain, the pain! Kill me! Kill me now!"

The beastman opened his jaws, and with the last of his strength, he bit down on his own tongue—

—but the seed seemed to sense the host's intentions, and forced a vine into the beastman's mouth to prevent it. After the host was fully encased in the plant's vines, it began to slowly harden into a crystal sap-like lattice.

Although Jehivn was sure that the infested beastman was near a state of awakening, this event was not an awakening.

Jehivn clicked his jaws in disappointment. His state of excitement plummeted, realising it's not the result he wanted.

"FaIlUrE… aGaIn."

The result was the same as when he previously placed a specimen with a group of undead. Undead are the embodiment of negativity, and their very existence generates the energy. Thus, he thought grouping undead and a specimen on the verge of awakening together would trigger an awakening.

However — it was not that simple. There seemed to be a long-winded process until the energy could be absorbed.

The seed seemed to sense the host's lack of ability to survive here, along with the lack of negative energy to feed on in this barren desert. As a survival mechanism, it has entered an indefinite state of hibernation until further opportunities present itself.

"If OnLy NeCrOCyTe WaS aLiVe…"

Jehivn trod heavily towards the gate he opened, wondering how many more failures he must face.

…

…

…

Deep within the frosted forests, south of El Tericathia's White Summits, was a hidden sanctuary built in dedication to the Eight Greed Kings. The surrounding land had long been deserted, even since before their fall.

It seemed like an encirclement of eight 20-meter obelisks, spaced equally, facing in eight directions. Each obelisk had an enlarged base, much like an upside-down pin. A flight of stairs led to the entrance that opened to the shrines built within. The ascending path for each had unique and complex inscriptions, telling glorified stories of the King's conquest.

After the passing of many years and being left untouched, snow weeds and frost vines had weaved an intrinsic network, blanketing the magnificent architectures in lush forestry. All glories were reduced to murmurs, nothing more than echoes of the legends that once resided there.

One would assume it was abandoned should it be stumbled upon, but inside one of the eight shrines, a hearth runs at the core. In comparison to the outer walls, where fractures and cracks harboured sprouting seedlings, the atrium of the inner sanctum was well-kempt without a speck of dust. Pillars created from unknown materials could be seen supporting the tower, withstanding the test of time. Terracotta ornaments decorated the walls, but the main attraction in the dim room was a luminous water pond.

A small pond was in the middle of the room filled with spirit waters, with frostfires hovering above glowing a blue hue. In the middle of the waters was a small elevated platform, and on top, stood a modest statue of a treefolk.

The treefolk appeared to be an ambulant plant-like lifeform with a distinct nose, mouth and mushroom head-cap. Otherwise, it was completely encompassed in twisted branches and flowers.

"Master Hardwood…"

A female spirit, in the appearance of a young woman, was sitting by the pond's edge, dipping her feet in. Despite the warmth emitted from the inner sanctums, she wore a one-piece outfit, decorated with fluffy wool and curled horns that made her resemble a ram.

She woefully looked towards the statue and longingly reached out her hands.

Quickly returning her mind to reality, she retracted her hand. Brushing aside her shoulder-length sky-blue hair, she once again returned her loving gaze.

"… why did you give me emotions like this? This pain… in my heart… how long has it been?"

A voice interrupted.

"DrEaMInG UnDeR ThE StARs, ReM-BeUr?"

"A- a, awa" she fumbled awkwardly and blushed a faint pink. There was no mistaking who the voice belonged to, but being a humble being of creation, she stood up and greeted Jehivn awkwardly, "He- ello- enings."

She choked on her own words, halfway between "Hello" and "Good evenings".

Jehivn went straight to the point, "A DivInAtIoN, PlEaSe."

It is said divination is most accurate on a night of no false lights.

Rem-Buer is able to foretell the outcome of one's path, regardless of whether she knows of their intentions or not. Thus, many have consulted and borrowed her abilities in the past. However, the journey itself is omitted in the divination, much like a book with only the beginning and end.

It sounds wondrous. Yet, upon knowing a good future, some drop their efforts, and others change the way they are. This led to very different or even poor results. Because of this, many turned and labelled her an Apostle of Corruption.

"A- again?"

Rem-Buer could not see through Jehivn's shadowy cloak, however, she was sure his arachnoid head gestured a nod, accompanied by a crackle of his jaws.

"Haa—," sighed Rem-Buer. She did not bother asking Jehivn about what he was doing, because every time she did in the past, he simply stayed in stubborn silence.

Jehivn had pride in his work. His failure was the equivalent of his creator's failure, and he could not tolerate blemishing her name. Thus, he was silent whenever others questioned his lone actions.

She turned towards the pond and inhaled deeply into her lungs. After holding her breath for a few seconds, she slowly exhaled a litmus purple mist onto the pond. As the magic rolled and slowly took shape, she turned back to ask, "Je- Jehivn… a- are you okay? D-do you want to talk? I- I don't mean y- you are a coward or scared, but l- like, you know? Y-you often disappear off our radars, only to later reappear wounded and hurt. I- worry…"

Due to Rem-Buer's introverted nature, she was not one to deny a simple request from a friend, but this was very different. She sensed an increasing unease in her friend. This tremor in his heart had been there ever since she gave him that prophecy. She reminisced the words spoken back then, while in her transient state: _On the night of a black moon, you will learn of the keys that you yearn. However, on this night, your desired strength will be the coming of your bane. She, Landfall, the princess of the night, will be your ending._

Stirring large-scale unrest, as proposed by Astarot, would spread negativity, and hence, awaken multiple infestations across the land. This would distract the heroes while they infiltrated the castle. However, Jehivn saw the success rate of this being much too low, not even Rem-Buer's divination could predict a clear outcome. It wavered to each of their changing emotions.

Seeking an alternative, Jehivn desired the knowledge to manipulate negative energy. With this, he would be able to awaken any amount of infested Zy'tl specimens instantly if he so wished. If he detonated simultaneous awakenings near the Floating Castle, not even the Platinum Dragon Lord would be able to face them all at once. However…

"ThE pAyMeNt FoR ThE KnOwLeDgE iS My LiFe. I aM… GoInG tO DiE, BuT…," Jehivn briefly paused in contemplation, "… Is iT in VaiN? AfTeR aLl ThIs, WilL I Be AbLe tO meEt My MaKeR aGaIn?"

"T-that, I do not know."

"ThEn iTs PoiNtleSs. It EqUAteS tO NoThInG If My AcTiOnS REsuLtS In NaUgHt."

"It is not pointless!" rejected Rem-Buer. "You will fall in the midst of battle… you will fight valiantly, for our sake, for all our sakes. You, who are to fall to the hands of 12, will lead us to victory."

Jehivn's sight met the ground.

"The 12 heroes," said Rem-Buer to draw Jehivn's attention. "Some of the 12 heroes have been replaced over the years. Yet, the tongues of mortals continue to call them the same. Do you know why…?"

"It Is BeCaUsE ThEy ArE ToO IgNoRaNt tO NoTiCe."

"W-well, that's partially true. But, it is because the heroes have become a symbol, the personification of hope among the mortals in this world. Symbols do not die.

And you, Jehivn, are a part of my hope, our hope, and our hero."

She gently touched Jehivn's shoulder through the shadowy cloak.

"I Am NoT ImMoRtaL..."

"You don't have to be."

"I wIlL DiE..."

"Your battle has just begun."

"I Am NoT a HeRo..."

"You are my idol."

"WhY?" Jehivn asked with self-loth. "WhY do yOu HaVe So MuCh FaiTh In mE?"

"Jehivn, look at me."

"..."

"Jehivn!" shouted Rem-Buer in a voice that surprised even herself.

Jehivn sluggishly moved.

Rem-Buer could not see Jehivn's eyes, but she was sure they were looking at her.

"In the vision, you seemed happy. You fought to see your creator, and nothing will ever take that place. Surely that must mean something. Surely, you died knowing you will see her again! And that, that gives me hope, that give us all hope.

The hope you impart to us will be eternal. With eternity, we will eventually see our Supreme Beings."

Rem-buer smiled, and then removed her hand.

After a brief moment of silence, Jehivn asked, "WHaT AbOuT YoU ?"

"Me?" replied Rem-Buer.

"WErE YoU NoT In PaIn WhEn He WaS HeRe?" Jehivn looked at statue in the middle of the pond with three of his eight compound eyes. "An UnReQuItEd LoVe. WhAt Is iN ThIs FoR YoU?"

 _Is It nOt cRuEl To fOrCe YoU tO lOvE HiM bUt NeVeR ReTuRn It?_ thought Jehivn. He did not directly ask because it seemed too cruel.

As though reading Jehivn's mind, Rem-Buer answered while looking at the same statue, "It is true that he only loves me as a creation, a daughter. I know Master Hardwood will never look at me the same as his Madam Flower*Pot, but…

He reached out his hands to those in need, he was kind to those around him, leading them through the darkest times. I loved the way his eyes lit up, I loved to hear even a single word from him, I loved it when he shows me affection and pats my head. When he is around, I believed it would be alright. When he was around, it made my chest tighten. I know that even if the world came to hate him, I would stand beside and believe in him.

Perhaps, it is cruel for him to create me this way, but it is I, who decided on continuing to love him. I know…," she swallowed down her sadness, "… I know an "I love you" will never come from him…"

"ThEn WhY?"

"… The feeling of never being able to reach, see or touch him is much more painful. Just being together is everything. Even if he loves your creator, Madam Flower*Pot, I would give anything for him. Even if everything else comes to naught, these feelings of mine are of my own."

She was smiling, but tears welled up in her eyes. She covered her mouth but emotions overflowed.

"I love him… I adore him… more than anything in this world. He, and these feelings mean everything… and if he is not in this world, then I- I- I—!"

A silky tentacle from Jehivn patted her shoulder.

"S-sorry Jehivn. I'm not brave, I'm not a leader, I'm not very smart… I know I'm selfish… b- but I will do everything that I can. So please… ple- please save him," sniffed Rem-Buer as she cleaned away the tears with the sleeves of her arms. When her eyes were cleared of their cloudiness, she noticed the colour of her spell had settled. "T-the spell has finished… eh? J- Jehivn?"

Rem-Buer darted her eyes around looking for Jehivn, but he was nowhere to be seen.

"Y- you're not hiding somewhere to scare me, right?"

Jehivn, however, was not one to do that. He had disappeared from her side without seeing the final divination, although it had been the same reading many times for the past few months.

Maybe… he just wanted to talk. Maybe… he finally found his resolve. Maybe… I have finally said it right…

Again, Jehivn had blocked all lines of communication to him.

She returned her sights to the divination. Her eyes widened—

…

…

…

Jehivn stepped out of a shadowy gate onto a grassy field. His sights were locked onto the darkened skies as the portal squeezed into nothingness behind him.

Some of the 12 heroes were replaced over the years, lost, either to the mercy of time or to their hands. Yet, mortals continued calling them the same…

 _It Is BeCaUsE ThEy ArE ToO IgNoRaNt tO NoTiCe ThAt SoMe Of tHeM HaVe DiEd._

The heroes have become a symbol among the mortals in this world. Symbols do not die, the ones behind them can. Symbols can also be corrupted, that Jehivn knew too well.

There was a second interpretation to Rem-Buer's statement, but Jehivn trusted that she had no ill-intentions when she shared her divination.

He cursed himself for his own selfishness. If he had to sacrifice himself to create a path, then so be it. His wish meant little for the sake of everyone else. He believed he carried the responsibility of everyone. Most of all…

… he sent his arachnoid head into a brief tremor to drop the sight of Rem-Buer's distraught face.

"I WiLl FulFiLl My rOlE."

In the distance, he saw the luxurious mansion belonging to that impudent human. There, he decided to make his way.

…

…

…

"[Maximise Magic] Ice Lig…"

A streak of sweat ran down Ian's face and dripped onto the chalk markings of the magic circle on the garden's polished concrete floors. The markings started to glimmer a light blue, but his legs gave out, and he collapsed onto his hands and knees, panting. The blue light dimmed into nothingness, leaving behind the white chalk markings.

"Tch. Why won't you obey me? I demand more of your power."

The seed in his arm nudged slightly, but remained silent. Through his money and influence, he had access to enough theories left behind from the Age of Gods, but he simply did not have the mana source to activate the spells. Every time he attempted to cast magic outside of his capabilities, the failure would result in a horrendous back surge.

"Perhaps, the Cauraus are more knowledgeable… looks like their orbs are vital..."

The backlash inflicted pain through his every fibre.

"[I-Iceball]"

Although it lacked destructive in comparison to [Fireball], it was a gaseous spell that froze things immaculately in place. With trouble, he shot the third-tier magic into the shadow to release and prevent the build-up of additional mana.

The shadow, however, came to life and dissipated the gaseous ball. Many would have been paralysed or horrified at the sight, but—

"Jehivn…"

— Ian immediately recognised who it was.

"FouRtH TiEr SoOn?"

"Shut it. I am sure you have better things to do than taunt me."

Approximately eight years ago, Jehivn recognised a human with high potency in tiered arcane magic in a prestigious family. As per routine, Jehivn offered him a Zy'tl seed, and the human, blinded by despair after losing his wife, jumped at the deal. The mere human, on the other hand, devised other plans behind his back. Recently, this human, Ian announced he had the ability to create undead.

Negative energy radiated from sadness, anger, hate, frustration, grief and many other forms. Wherever there were conflicts, there were places bountiful in the energy. The densest source of negativity, however, radiated not from struggles of the living, but from the very existence of undead beings, for they practically seemed to be the embodiment hate and anger.

If he could create undead, he had the ability to manipulate negative energy. After all, both go hand in hand.

Jehivn speculated that if the undead creation method was improved upon, perhaps, it could be used to harness negative energy. Through Rem-Buer's divination, it was a confirmed fact. Without a doubt, it would become possible to spawn beasts capable of fighting on par with the Platinum Dragon Lord.

"I sHouLd JuSt ToRtUrE tHe InFoRmAtIoN OuT oF YoU."

"You know full well that's too risky. The mind hangs in a delicate balance to the corrosion of the seed. I am sure you are not the one to take such risks…"

Jehivn's exoskeletal chest filaments clicked threateningly; there was no greater humiliation than falling short of someone beneath you.

Ian picked himself off the ground and used a white handkerchief to wipe away his worked up sweat. He gestured with his chin towards a garden swing, which held a scroll imprinted with a map.

"… Anyways, I said I would show you the undead town tonight."

Jehivn promptly picked up the scroll and studied it. He recognised it immediately as Teh Etherian, a town where he looked once, but quickly lost interest.

"NaMe YoUr PrIcE."

"Keys to the inner section of Zuranon's library."

The library named was one held under tight guard in the underground of the church of Eth-Lumina. It was first built by the Six Gods and later captured by the Eight Greed Kings. The library, in general, was secluded from the public and only a select few know of its existence. The inner section, however, was sealed by a Maxwell gate and only the closest followers of Eight Kings could gain access.

Nobody had entered since the downfall.

To Jehivn's knowledge, there was nothing of value to him, his comrades or his Supreme Beings in the vault. Its contents were a few low-tier grimoires, some experimental weapons, and historical texts. Nothing in it could be considered a threat. That said, Jehivn was cautious, especially since this human wanted it.

"I WiLl EnD YoU FiRsT ChaNcE I GeT."

Jehivn tossed Ian a small medallion before disappearing.

Ian smirked, "I'll be waiting."

It was truly unfortunate for Jehivn that FurFurira's life ended too early. If only she was here to read into Ian's mind.

…

…

…

Jehivn took a brief sweep of the undead in the surrounding area, as he stepped onto the highest belltower in the middle of Teh Etherian.

A dishevelled spider arm extended from under the shadowy cloak and release a sticky scent from a pus-filled gland. The spores slithered hazardously outwards in all directions, seeping through cracks and dissolving into surfaces upon the slightest touch.

"[LiFE SpOrEs]."

— Jehivn waited for a mental map to form. He knew he had some time for the spell to take form, so he curled his eight legs and rested his bulging, red-streaked abdomen.

An image stretched in his mind. It seemed like the spell had finished mapping out the area.

"ShE Is…"

He observed silently.

There was no mistaking the interesting human Ian promised. It was impossible to not recognise such a target, as the small girl was wreaking havoc among the adventurers by converting a few of them into undead. If she could convert humans into undead, it meant she could somehow manipulate the flow of negative energy into them.

Was it a coincidence that such a pesky little thing also resembled the vampire foretold in Rem-Buer's prophecy? He threw the question aside, remembering the words of his Supreme Beings. Vampires were said to grow wiser with the passing of time.

Jehivn sensed the similar mana signature shared between the little human and Ian. He concluded that it must be a broodling of Ian, and that Ian could, somehow, manifest her powers. Ian was an important factor, so Jehivn could not carelessly dispose of him.

"… sO ThAt'S WhY IaN iS UnAfRaId Of mE."

He wondered if Ian sent these troops along just to demonstrate the little human's powers.

As much as Jehivn was amazed, he was disgusted by the fact that Ian would use his own flesh and blood in such a way for his own gains. All these years, skipping through the blind spots of Jehivn's eight eyes, something must have snapped Ian's morality.

Was it the seed? Jehivn very much doubted it.

"I'm SuRe ThAt IaN WanTeD Me To TaKe HeR BaCk."

Spores steamed from the boils beneath the shadowy veil, licking and extending through the air towards the rampaging golden doll.

…

…

…

"No, no, no—! Jehivn!" screamed Rem-Buer as she looked into the divination. "It has changed! Why!? Everything has changed! Don't touch her! Why has it changed!? Where has he appeared from!? Why!?"

Although Rem-Buer knew there was no meaning in screaming at the image in the pond, she hoped he would hear her.

There was no longer the appearance of the vampire among the 12. Rather, it was something more sinister.

"Jehivn, get out of there! [Message], [Message]," she repeatedly casted to no avail. Jehivn had blocked off all points of contact like always. "Please, please, please! Get through! [Message], [Message], [Message], [Message], [Message], [Message], [Message], [Message], [Message], [Message], [Message], [Message], [Message], [Message], [Message], [Message]…"

It was no use. She fell and sobbed.

"I've messed up, I've messed up! It's my fault, it must have been what I said!

[Message] Viné, [Message] Phoenicia, [Message] Astarot… answer me please! Someone, please, answer me now…!"

 **-XXX-**


	8. Chapter 6: Destination (Part 2)

**Destination (part 2)**

 **-XXX-**

 _It happened too quickly..._

Keeno looked away from the mana depleted mage laying on the ground and took a deep breath. In the blink of an eye, she started dashing in erratic directions, drawing the attention of undead in the immediate vicinity. Her fluttering was one that would agitate even the most patient of undead lurkers, and noticing these intentions, her crimsons eyes darted to capture signs of the looming threats.

Undead lurkers were those that lie in wait with traps —rather than rely on direct combat alone— for an advantage. Corpse tarantulas and visceral worms were prime examples of undead that demonstrated these behaviours.

Corpse tarantulas built and hid in web-funnels created from solidified animal proteins. When unsuspecting prey is dragged into the cavern by the arachnoid, the web rendered most movements impossible.

Visceral worms secreted pools of acid into the soil and moved through it like it was swimming. The soil would become loose and mushy that traps and melts unlucky individuals.

The tarantula and worm could burrow in most types of soils within the human kingdoms.

"Mm~?" sounded Aria as she watched.

Whether it was by knowledge from books or by pure instinct, Keeno avoided odd lumps of dirt, unexplored building entrances, along with areas that showed signs of large beasts passing. Proper positioning during combat was a challenge that amateurs faced when engaged in the heat of combat.

Though, considering it was Keeno, she probably just had a "bad feeling". Regardless, Aria was impressed with the little girl.

The zombies and skeletons instinctively flocked. Some were sluggish, whereas others could easily outpace an average runner. However, Keeno energetically and easily out-sped them all.

The slow ones, however, did not remain slow. After a few bouts, their stiff joints bettered themselves.

 _Rattle~_

A rabid skeleton rapidly gained on her and reached out its hand to seize her by the shoulder…

… but suddenly, Keeno turned around, and her foot met the skull squarely between the eye sockets. Keeno spring-boarded a fair distance, while the skeleton took a tumble into the dirt.

"Heh," smirked Keeno as she landed.

 _Let's see… one, two, three…_ , she counted in her head. Ah. Doesn't matter. I'll hit them and see what happens.

She felt one well-placed spell could finish the undead horde, but she also had a feeling she was forgetting someone's words.

To preserve mana, she did not entirely materialise water for the spell, but rather utilised some of the water in the area to fuel her magic.

"[Water…]"

An aura of ominous red gathered in her hands. Her mind felt fuzzy and out of tune —as if she were drunk— while the magic coursed through the circuits of her small body.

Wha…?

However, she did not let the feeling get the best of her.

"[… Slicer]"

The crescent stream, laced in a blood red weave, sliced through three skeletons and two zombies in one horizontal cut.

After releasing the magic, her flaring sensation subsided slightly, but not wanting to worry the ones beside her, she steadied herself.

"Good job, Keeno~"

…

…

…

"Welcome back," greeted the old butler in the large study. "I have prepared your usual drink, Marquis Ian…"

Ian threw his cuff pins onto the desk and took a swig of the amber coloured drink.

"Sebastian," Ian firmly placed his cup down with a tap. "I don't need a constant reminder that _I_ , _me_ , am still a Marquis."

"My apologies," nodded the old butler. He waited as his master paced to the wide windows and slouched into a luxurious leather sofa to observe the night sky.

When Ian appeared ready, the butler handed him a file.

Ian flicked through page after page nimbly. After a brief while, he dropped the file on the tea table and grunted.

"I will be retiring for tonight," said Ian.

"Are you sure, sir?" replied the old butler. "The trader from Cauraus will be arriving soon."

"Then… give him the usual price for the rosa nirnroot orbs, and offer him a drink," said Ian without looking back. "I will be done tidying up shortly."

Rosa nirnroot was said to be harvested by moonlight trolls in the Catalican Heights during the months of lower wind. However, no one knows the reason. The red fruits were known to be poisonous to small animals.

The crystal orbs synthesised from the extract were utilised for purification purposes. The Church of the Burning Phoenix north of Arwintar had a monopoly on its limited distributions, so it was extremely difficult to lay one's hands upon one here.

 _What happened to the previous one?_ wondered the old butler. The previous orb purchased by the master had an eerie obsidian look, far different from the pearl white ones he had seen during his visitations to the town's churches.

It was an odd purchase by the master of this household. Yet, this action pales in comparison to all the other shady dealings.

…

…

…

A delicate necklace with snapped ends on the arm of the fainted mage caught Keeno's eyes. She slipped away from Aria's embrace and squatted to take a closer look.

"… This necklace…"

Keeno removed the necklace from the arm and pulled out her own pendant. Whether it was due to the lingering haziness, or the grime on the necklace, she could not tell if the jewellery belonged to her.

Aria also bent over for a closer look, but Keeno did not mind.

Slowly, Keeno released mana and channelled water elements around to wash away the bloodstained necklace.

The haziness increased… a sign of intoxication…

…

…

…

The old butler watched as his master slowly strolled towards the door. He swallowed dryly, raising his courage to speak, "Sir…"

Ian stopped and raised a brow.

"No. It's nothing," said the old butler. He only hoped the previous orb was properly sealed, so the dangerous purifying components did not leak. Water and its elements, especially, were easily tainted by the residual waste of the orbs.

"Sebastian," said Ian. "Take some leave, like Maria. Spend some time off. I will arrange this place to be kept in proper order by the others."

…

…

…

"Keeno!" yelled Aria while parrying the attacks with swift defensive maneuvers. She knocked down one deadly claw strike after another. "St-stop! Why are you attacking us!?"

The little girl attacked with pure, uncontrolled vigour. She was like an intoxicated and enraged animal. Crimson eyes that pierced the dark, blood-red nails that tore through flesh, sharp canines that crushed bones and a flare of golden hair… she was, by nature, a huntress of the night. These characteristics were not so subtle anymore.

One more claw sliced at Aria. She intended to use her palms to safely deflect the blow, followed by a double palm thrust to create distance…

… but as though by luck, the claw slipped through an opening and shredded some of the fabric on her abdomen. The strike aimed to rip her apart.

"Wah…?"

Egas clapped and pressed his palms firmly into the ground, "[Nature's Grasp]."

Thick shrubs of weeds entangled Keeno's foot, holding her in place. Nevertheless, the spell was nothing but a hindrance that she was eventually going to overcome.

Aria used the opportunity to leap backward.

Aria and Egas were stupefied as to what approach to take.

"Nnngh," moaned the fainted mage, catching the attention of the predatory eyes.

After struggling free from the shrubs, Keeno's fingers penetrated the mage's throat to wrap her fingers around the trachea. She mercilessly ripped a segment out.

Blood sprayed from the carotid arteries and his colour of life drained. The mage gargled on his own blood and his last breath came to an abrupt end.

Unexpectedly, Keeno bit into the corpse.

"K-Keeno..."

"S-she..."

Un-life seeped into it by the bite, surging it to beckon a master in the chaos. A demonic energy flooded, tapped from the wells of purgatory. In the next moment, it tossed and turned, like a frail leaf hanging by its stipule in a hurricane.

A cold sweat ran down Egas' bald-spot.

The dead mage opened its eyes to witness its field of vision dyed in bloodcurdling red. The throat had been wrenched out, and the air passing through burned. The whole world around him felt like it was on fire.

Amidst the tremendous searing pain throughout the body, it fumbled to find its balance with heart and soul.

"Gaaah, gaaaaaah, gaaarh…"

A reformed corpse sorcerer, an existence only made possible by an Undead Princess.

Egas stared at the being, "W-what is that? What has she done?"

The corpse sorcerer eyed the old man and focused onto Aria following the will of his master. He sensed the gazes of these two mortals tainting his creator's existence.

The creator was its master; she was the only being that may grant it commands. Its creator, the golden-haired doll, held out her hand, almost appearing to be in misery.

"Keeno," softly called Aria. Aria timidly reached out her hand, but retracted it quickly, bearing in mind the situation. "Why?"

Slowly, the corpse raised its staff—

Egas broke his own petrification and went into an awkward sprint. He shouted, "Aria, get out of the way!"

 _—If this one's creator wants a hand, then this one shall tear that elf's hand off!_

Egas pushed and fell with Aria onto the ground.

A heatwave rolled over their heads as the blazing sphere crashed and scorched a wall behind them.

Egas immediately picked himself up and pulled Aria up after.

It was no longer the tier 1 spell [Fling Embers]. No. The human limiter had been removed, allowing it to be far more powerful—

"No chant!?" said Aria as she held her head. "That should be impossible."

"Move!" shouted Egas. "Get up! It's preparing to shoot again!"

Another hot load was going to come at her. Although Aria's mind was in a daze, she did as she was told.

"Keeno? Where is Keeno?" asked Aria. "It would be disastrous if she killed and converted anyone else."

"She's gone," answered Egas. He took out a flare and quickly lit it with a match. "We have to take out this undead caster first. Let's make sure everyone retreats."

 **-XXX-**


	9. Chapter 6: Destination (Part 3)

**Destination (Part 3)**

 **-XXX-**

Suvia's unconscious and shrapnel ridden body was laid on top of a makeshift brown mattress inside a treatment tent. It was not the cleanliest or most sterile location, but it was all there was.

Her friend, Sigurd, entered and stood guard near the entrance. However, instead of her usual stance of a looming hawk, her gaze was listless and uneasy.

Panicked shadows of grey garbs rushed back and forth. The lights flickered and danced with their steps, challenging the delicate precision required in tending the wounds.

Meanwhile, Lincelle Paradyne, hailed as one of the most skillful battlefield nurses, was stopping the bleeding to the best of her ability. Her finesse with magic and her skill with the needle was a rarity, for very few were able to tap into the mystic arts of healing and even fewer pursued surgical skills.

Many have attempted to recruit this talented widow and her child for their households and divisions. But thus far, no one could find what she truly desires. Being a woman of mysteries made her most magnetic.

Perhaps – her presence here was nothing short of a miracle from god.

Clink~

The last of the stitches were sown and the needle bounced with a crisp noise in the metal kidney dish.

Sigurd reactively lifted her head to see the nurse swiftly severe the suturing line with her teeth.

When the last bandage was tightened - almost as if in prayer - Sigurd kneeled and gently cradled her dear friend's hand to her own forehead. Beneath her agonised and tortured murmurs, she whimpered the name of the fainted before her:

"Suvia…"

Sigurd tenderly pressed her friend's limp hand to her own moist cheeks. It was the same hand that had once pulled her from a dark depression.

With a wavering heart Sigurd briefly scanned the bandages, fearful of what there was to see.

Most of the compression wrappings were coated with dried blood. Only a few patches of the original white remained.

The original plan was to separate the girl and the armoured man by utilising the Marquis' authority and undead extermination expedition as a guise. Eventually, the girl would have been sent off to the Marquis, whereas the man would be kept on the expedition. This would have rid them of most of the responsibilities the marquise had burdened them with.

But – now this happened.

Sigurd bit her lips; the taste of iron flooded her mouth. Her heart cursed and cried, seeking someone to blame.

 _Why?_ – Sigurd wanted to cry out, but the word was caught among the many other thorn-coated words in her throat.

If their God was omnipotent, why had he not lent her his strength?

If their God was benevolent, why did such a horrible event occur?

Above all, if God truly favoured his own followers, why did he not protect her?

The once mighty paladin of God was on the brink of death.

"… gurd…," blurred a voice in the backdrop.

"Sigurd," the female voice gently repeated.

The voice snapped Sigurd back into reality and she responded in a dull and sluggish tone, "Mrs… Paradyne. It's done?"

The tent was empty. Everyone else had left.

The battlefield nurse's face was covered in a veil, which was smeared and dabbed with red. Her hands were no different, as she awkwardly attempted to wipe away the dried blood with a dirty rag.

The voice behind the veil rattled, "Bruising around her neck, probably a few fractured ribs, shrapnel in her legs… one narrowly missing a major vessel…"

"Spare me the details," cut in Sigurd.

"Have some respect," grumbled Paradyne. "I was the one who pieced you together all those years ago."

The nurse kept her fatigued eyes down to avoid looking at the lost eye. However, this was not the only reason.

Talismans and charms dangled from her loose gown, as she slowly brushed by Sigurd to the water trickling from the tap of a wooden barrel. Another small cloth was pulled out from a pocket to scrub her hands.

Sigurd, with great reluctance, stayed in place, as Mrs. Paradyne meticulously and systematically washed her hands.

"She is alive for now," said Paradyne with her back turned.

Sigurd narrowed her eyes, "For now?"

"Whatever blade she had been grazed by… left some residue…"

Paradyne ran her eyes over the left side of Suvia's bandaged face before continuing her monotone speech.

"She is slowly being eaten from within. It may not be today, it may not be tomorrow…"

Sigurd clenched her teeth and kept her head low as Paradyne spoke. Chains seemed to constrict her chest, wrenching it ever so tightly.

I don't want to know, I don't want to hear it.

"… but someday very soon…"

As the vice-captain and an experienced soldier, Sigurd should have been able to deal with this, for she had steeled her heart in preparation. She appeared calm, void of all unnecessary emotions, as one would expect of a seasoned professional.

Taking a few deep breaths, she mustered the strength to finish the sentence herself, "She's going to… die!?"

—Or, so she thought.

"Can't you do anything!?"

The words came out more desperate than Sigurd had intended but she did not care.

"Since she is going to die, then maybe you should end her suffering now..."

Paradyne started closing off the trickling water. The harsh screeching of the tap seemed to accentuate the friction in the air.

"Y-you can't be serious!"

The nurse kept silent with her back turned; this was an answer she had given countless times.

There was no reason for her to turn around. No. She refused to, for she would once again see another shatter. More than being a gallant knight and more than being a steeled soldier…

… she would see a girl who cared for her friend. The sight of their turmoil would pain her so.

Lincelle Paradyne was talented and stood above all others in her field. But, she too, was simply just a human. She had no power to prevent the grasp of death.

Sigurd heard a flap of drapes as Paradyne left the tent.

—There was nothing to be said.

The gust of wind felt like a thousand needles piercing Sigurd's heart. However, the drops that came out were not blood red but a clear liquid from her eyes.

It was a natural process of this world, yet, who could accept it?

Who would accept it?

Even Gods would have lamented dearly for each other's departure.

"Suvia van der Stratton…"

Sigurd pulled out her dagger.

"… in memory of her, who fought to the ends on the field of combat…"

The edge seemed to thirst for the blood within Suvia's neck. It contrasted and reflected the brittle light.

"… retires only honourably in death."

 **-XXX-**

Fodder, Nyl and Ingvar, the remaining three party members of Ogre's Fist, were carefully stumbling their way back to camp. Fodder led the way, Ingvar followed with a makeshift torch, and Nyl was the rear-guard.

Despite how crude Fodder usually acted, he had a keen sense of direction.

Ingvar could no longer fight properly due to his broken right hand, so he held the torch. In this way, Nyl and Fodder could fight to their full potential should it be necessary.

It was an oddly logical formation decided by the team of muscles.

"Fodder," called out Nyl, breaking the silence. "We've been walking in weird directions for a while now. I don't think this is the way back."

Ingvar took attention off his own broken hand and looked around in the dim light. He, too, thought it was quite strange.

"Oi? What's wrong, Fodder?" asked Ingvar as he tried to shift the light source for a better look.

Fodder ignored both of them and dragged his feet one more time. He gave an unsightly groan.

"Fodder," said Nyl firmly, sensing something was amiss. He broke formation and approached the team leader. Just as he was about to tap him by the shoulder, Fodder's head turned 180 degrees and snarled with a foaming drool in his mouth.

Nyl jumped back in shock, while Ingvar flinched on the spot.

Fodder's eyes had rolled back in their sockets, displaying a yellow-tinged sclera. His facial colour was pale, whereas his legs swelled and sagged with a ghastly blue and purple colour. It was almost as if his organs gave out and blood pooled under gravity.

He rigidly moved his arms and legs, as though muscle stiffness had set in. He seemed like a dead man walking.

No. A pugnacious odour emitted from Fodder, similar to that of rotting corpses. He was, indeed, a dead man walking.

"Damn fool," cursed Nyl. "It must've been from that zombie bite from the first horde we encountered. Told him not to be so careless—"

"You mean those stories about the dead were true?" asked Ingvar in panic. "Why the hell didn't you say sooner!?"

"Well, shit. It's not like _stories_ are mostly fabricated," sarcastically retorted Nyl. He wanted to retort further but decided there was a more important matter at hand.

Many tales told by mothers to young children were to usher them for bed. One of the most infamous ones speaks of necromancers kidnapping naughty children that wonder the night. There were many versions of the same story. Some say the practitioners of darkness let undead feed on the tender flesh of the young to strengthen them. Others would tell of undead biting and turning children into their undead kin…

… not that any of this meant anything now.

"We retreat," decided Nyl. "We should be able to create a fair distance."

Ingvar clicked his tongue in disdain; he did not enjoy the idea of running away with their tails between their legs. However, knowing Fodder's head was made of bricks, it was going to be a tough one to crack open. It was best to conserve stamina and not taking risks in unnecessary fights.

The two hastened their pace. Surely, if they travelled in one direction, they would soon be out of the cursed town.

A small golden-haired figure leaped down from a tall building and landed on the escape path.

"Get outta the way lil'girl," shouted Ingvar, angry that she had suddenly stopped them.

Nyl swallowed dryly, suspicious of her appearance.

Behind the long messy hair, a pair of evil eyes feasted on a nice track of veins. One of the two men was soon to learn the truth about this fallen land.

"S-sorry, Ingvar," apologised Nyl, quickly realising the thing in front of them had no remaining shred of humanity left.

"For what?" asked Ingvar in confusion, before a rock knocked him unconscious.

The little she-devil pounced on the fainted, allowing an opportunity for Nyl to make a run for it.

Away from the sights of the runner, spores erupted and entangled into a giant web. It quickly ensnared and pulled the little girl into a different dimension.

 **-XXX-**

A flick of his right hand sent an undead flying, a flick of his left hand slashed through a rib cage.

Covered in the armour of a dark warrior, he breezed through the town like a cyclone, him being the eye.

His mission was to save as many members as possible, as per the one-eyed coordinator's request. In return, she offered him a direct promotion to orichalcum through her connections.

It was a tempting proposal. He wanted to rise through the ranks and see his dreams fulfilled, something that never happened in his previous life.

On the other hand, refusing could be seen as a violation of orders, and both of them would be treated no better than criminals. This would include persecution and denial of many rights across multiple countries and nations.

Rumours and stories travelled quickly by word of mouth, especially when it regarded the controversies of adventuring. This was due to many different powers contesting for the wealth earned by slaying monsters. Adventuring was like a double-edged blade, where one side could earn one much glory, but the other could leave a cursed mark.

Personally, he only needed to change his armour and carry on, but for Keeno, it was an entirely different situation. It was an extremely distasteful thought to force the consequences of his whim onto a child.

His original intention was to quickly complete the request and return with Keeno.

However…

 _[Message] What do you mean that she went on rampage, and then went missing!? Explain this to me immediately!_

-He demanded in agitation.

His hands gripped the handle of the two broadswords tightly, eyeing the remaining undead with irritated eyes. He gestured his filth-stained swords at the surrounding undead.

With an uproar, the undead tried to flee, trampling over their own fallen kind.

A sword spun through the air, slicing a zombie at the abdomen and pinning another ahead into a tree. The other sword darted after shortly, impaling a struggling split body.

Although these undead should not know fear, they seemed to feel just that because of the one cutting them down.

In a seemingly desperate attempt, one dagger holding skeleton jabbed at the unarmed warrior. However, the warrior caught and gripped the skeleton by the neck, and with the other hand, tore the skull off by the atlas joint.

The skeletal body collapsed lifelessly to the ground alongside the decapitated skull.

A greyish corpse from behind held a mace high, but a psionic dagger appeared out of nothingness and sliced through the wrists. The heavy weapon fell and crushed the corpse's own head.

A few steps from the dagger's spot of appearance, a phantom assassin materialised herself from a crystalline matrix in the thin air. She dropped to her knees before her ruler, not caring for the dirt on her sleek black suit.

"Where is she? Where is Keeno?" he asked with haste.

Silently, the twin-tailed black-haired assassin presented a broken necklace and pendant.

 _You'll save me… won't you?_ – Who did these words belong to?

He recognised the delicate items and immediately plucked them.

After briefly eyeing jewellery and pocketing them safely away, a spark like no other ignited beneath. Although he took many deep breaths to quell the raging flames, he could no longer contain himself and erupted, "Damn it!"

The assassin flinched behind the bandana mask, sensing menace in the tone. "W-we are trying our best to track her—"

"I don't care about that. Where is she?" he demanded.

The assassin trembled with her head down.

"Leave," he commanded abruptly.

The assassin stared blankly.

"Leave!" he repeated. "Kill her and reclaim her remains intact. As for witnesses... dead men tell no tales."

 _Was his intention not to save them, like he promised the girl?_

"B-but, are you sure? Has your will changed?"

The beady red eyes returned a hateful glare, "Did I fucking stutter?"

"Your wish…," weakly replied the assassin, "… is my command." She knew it was not her summoner's one true desire. In the depths of her summoner's heart, she felt the churning of conflicting wishes.

Nevertheless, she lowered her head and dematerialised into a crystal matrix.

The sabaton followed shortly and crushed a skull beneath him to smithereens.

"Damn it!"

He kicked the ground.

After becoming an undead, his strong emotions were automatically suppressed, but even after calming down, a new rage immediately blazed.

 _L-let_ me _journey with you!_ – Where was she now?

"Damn it!"

He kicked the ground again.

"Damn it, damn it, damn it, damn it…!"

Because his physical strength was extraordinary, a large amount of dirt was kicked up.

"Damn it…"

It should have been logical. It should be a simple matter of slaying a vampire. Should Keeno become a blood-crazed vampire, then he should slay her. He had more than enough [Wands of Resurrection] to restore her life and revert her.

As far as he knew, he did not have items or spells to reverse a transformation, not even his prized ring, [Wishing Upon A Star], could return her to human form. He did not recall seeing it on the list, among a couple hundred others, while in Yggdrasil.

"Why do I care so much…?"

He had no obligation towards her, remembering the reason he kept her around in the beginning.

Was it not because she was the only intelligent life around when he arrived?

Did he not consider it logical to leave her if things went south?

 _Y… you are going to leave me behind?_ – He already knew the answer.

"Damn it… all!"

He drove his fist through a limestone monument.

 _… hero…_ – Was this a word that described him? For what he had done, he doubted such a shining title suited him.

"I am—," he began to declare.

 _Dark Hero Momon!_ – Was that his name? It was all a guise he assumed since the beginning. It was not his intention to shoulder the weight of the title.

"— not—"

 _… My secret 14th…_ – He shook his head, attempting to empty his mind of the memory.

 _… hero!_

"— a hero!"

His irritation dissipated into the settling dust.

 _"Dark hero Momon. My secret 14th hero."_

"… I am not a hero, Keeno. I am… not."

 **-XXX-**

Six phantom assassins gathered in out of sight in a dark alleyway.

"Sixth, what did Master Momonga say?" asked Second concernedly.

All six phantom assassins were named in such a way in the order of their appearance during their night of summoning. They created a chain of command and allocated different roles according to their name. Their appearance varied slightly, just enough to identify who was who. Oddly, the six of them have taken different personalities, too.

Sixth had the meekest personality, whereas first had the most dominating. It was arbitrarily decided that it was best for Sixth to relay the news to Momonga.

Sixth spoke in a quiet voice with her hands modestly poised in front of her.

"He said, kill her and reclaim her remains intact. But, I feel that he was wavering when he made that command."

Third was infuriated, "You couldn't even make that clear!?"

Fourth and Fifth jumped to Sixth's defense.

"She did her best," said Fourth.

"It's not her fault," added Fifth.

Third grinded her teeth, "Both of you are below m—"

"That's enough," First sternly broke up the fight. "We have our orders. I assume Ruler Momonga will simply resurrect her afterward. That should restore the little girl to her previous state. Any questions?" Her eyes swept through her sisters, locking onto Sixth.

"What is it?" asked Sixth.

"What are your thoughts?" said First.

"I feel that he will be regretful," said Sixth. "It is nothing. Perhaps I am just overthinking things. There's nothing we can do."

"That's not what I mean," sighed First. "I meant, how are you feeling? We all heard and saw..."

Sixth took a deep breath and spoke, "I, like the rest of us, wish to do our very best. We, the conscience called forth from the eternal void, owe to him our lives. His warm voice pulled us out of that cruel realm. His kindness allowed us to see the wonders of this world together.

The short time we have spent together is a pure blessing, a thing I will forever cherish in our infinite span of consciousness. Even if he is a little mean and cruel, it does not make everything else irrelevant.

If I was to die and return to that cold place for eternity, I would happily, knowing I was in service to him. If I could make him happy…"

"… Then that would be my best reward," the rest finished her sentence.

"I believe we are all in agreement," concluded First with a small smile. "We could mindlessly follow the command, but I do not believe that is what our Ruler wishes for. This is our plan of action. We—"

The stars dropped a tear in favour of their decision.

 **-XXX-**


	10. Aria

**Known name: Aria**

High elf, Ranger with a crossbow

Appearance:

· Viridian green eyes

· Fair skinned

· looks 20s

· Curvy, pleasant form

· Modestly dressed in green ranger clothing that matches her eyes and the forest. The clothing is suitable for swiftly moving among trees.

· Long flowing silver hair style when not fighting. The hair is tied into locks when fighting.

Sizes: 160 cm (102-70-89) BMI 23

Mental age: Long standing married woman

Physical age: 420

Personality: Amiable and friendly towards humans, motherly towards Keeno

Quirks: Occasional Chuuni speech

Relationship: Wife of Egas, elder sister of Lyra

Short history: She was journeying the world alongside Egas after losing her daughter to premature stillbirth. She wanted to find meaning after experiencing so a tragic loss.


	11. Daifuku

**Known name: Daifuku**

Infected sentient beast

Appearance:

· Half tarsier (It's an animal) and half Zy'tl plant infested

· Right side: Tarsier side had fluffy brown fur, and appears cuddly and mushy like a Daifuku

· Left side: Plant infested side has draping skin, pulsating organs, and squirming plant tentacles

· Large opal and hypnotic eyes

· Thick python tail

· Spiny claws

· Coats itself in a bark-like exterior when engaging in fights

Sizes: 9 metres

Age: 350

Personality: Fluctuating between calmness and rage

Relationship: Loyal servant of the Six-Gods, developer of Elven technology and magic

Short history: Lived with the elves after the departure of the Six-Gods. He imparted much knowledge to the elves. His wife and yet-to-be born child were kidnapped by humans after negotiation deteriorated. In despair, he accepted an offer from Evil Deities.

Current status: Dead


	12. Egas

**Known name: K'Cuhc** **** **Egas** **Y-rep**

Human, Druid

Appearance:

· White hair locks

· Grey eyes

· Skin showing a life of hardship

· Heathy complexion

· Potbelly

· Wearing brown leather barbarian armour that accentuates his bulkiness

· Smell of herbs from him

Sizes: 155 cm BMI 26

Mental age: Aged with marriage

Age: 40

Personality: Knowledgeable of this world, hearty and passionate, draws attention as the fool, easily misunderstood as a pervert, tendency to draw flying rocks, and thoughtful when necessary

Relationship: Husband of Aria, brother-in-law of Lyra, self-proclaimed allegiance "to the beautiful woman of this world"

Short history: He moved away from theocracy and married an elf. He took Aria on a journey to see the world after losing his daughter to premature stillbirth. He feels the need to fulfil his role as a husband by supporting his wife even though he acts as such.


	13. Lyra

**Known name: Lyra**

Elf, Heavenly Crossbow Wielder

Appearance:

· Viridian green eyes

· Fair skinned

· looks in her teens

· Toned but not without some curves

· Modestly dressed in green ranger clothing that matches her eyes and the forest. The clothing is suitable for swiftly moving among trees.

· Shoulder lengthened forest green hair

Sizes: 154 cm (79-68-73) BMI 20

Mental age: Mature but secretly troubled youngster

Physical age: 319

Personality: Prideful, trouble expressing herself, self-loathing when things go wrong

Relationship: Younger sister of Aria, Sister-in-law of Egas, Part of the 13 Heroes

Short history: She was grief struck after the loss of her niece and partially blames herself for the loss. Originally, she left the forest because everything reminds her too much of the tragedy. Joined the 13 Heroes shortly in seeking the answer to make things right.


	14. Sigurd

**Known name: Sigurd**

Human, Vice-Captain of The Erebus Woman's squad

Appearance:

· Light brown eyes

· Suntanned skin

· Brown hair in a pony tail

· Toned with curves

· Valkyrie styled armour that is adjustable

· Eye patch on left eye

Sizes: 164 cm (80-68-73) BMI 22

Mental age: 20s

Age: 23

Personality: Considered an aunty by Keeno, very cunning, exerts pressure of professionality and seniority when necessary, sharp-mouthed, and a little cruel with her jokes

Relationship: Friend of Suvia

Short history: She pursued to be a high ranking officer to make money for her family. While in training, she lost her eye. Sigurd was saved by Suvia and an unlikely bond formed between the two as Sigurd overcame her disability.


	15. Suvia van der Stratton

**Known name: Suvia van der Stratton**

Human, Captain of The Erebus Woman's squad, Martial Arts User

Appearance:

· Light brown eyes

· Suntanned skin

· Brown hair in a pony tail

· Toned with curves

· Valkyrie styled armour that is adjustable

· Wears a dignified expression

Sizes: 162 cm (81-69-74) BMI 22

Mental age: 20s

Age: 23

Personality: A leader, charismatic to some, strong-willed, and iron masked (secretly very caring)

Relationship: Friend of Sigurd

Short history: Her family lost their honour due to the new King despising martial arts users. She pursued to restore the loss title and honour of the family by becoming a paladin. While in training, she saved Sigurd but still blames herself for the loss of the eye. An unlikely bond formed between the two as Suvia helped overcame her disability. However, her strength has been nothing but a tool for others.


	16. Side credits

Hey Guys,

This serves as a page to properly credit people who have helped with my work outside. It is only respectful to do so.

Additionally, it is to help people see where I am coming from as a lot of people have only seen the anime or manga which leaves out much-required details.

So... without further ado...

* * *

 **[6.3]**

 **[iCactus entry]**

I think I will split the next chapter into three parts too.

As for why my characters are so flat (you know who you are), please consider their height and weight. I have specifically added in their BMI for this reason. Their proportions are a lot more realistic (real life is a thing) considering their background. I could pull a high school DxD stunt, such as B102-W60-H89 cm, 168cm height and weight of 54 kg, but that is absolutely ridiculous. That means my character either have bird bones or have no/atrophy muscle mass.

For the record, the measurement of 168cm and 54kg, the person is generally equivalent to a very slim person.

Anyways, hope this entertains you until next episode of overlord.

 **[6.2]**

 **[iCactus entry]**

One more part to Destination left.

Mmm... I'm at a standstill on how to proceed with next chapter.

Thanks to Eternal for doing intensive editing

 **[6.1]**

 **[iCactus entry]**

The remaining chapter (Destination part 2 and part 3) put on hold until editing is done.

Due to my absence, the roles have reformed.

Message if still interested.

 **[5]**

 **[iCactus entry]**

Yes, Daifuku is hinted to be Hamsuke's grandfather

Did people understand the dark humour last chapter? Coat hangers, the cyanide pills...

Roles this chapter:

\- Main Script Writer - **iCactus**

\- Battle scene support writer - **UniPotatoe**

\- Proofreader/editor – **TitanOfPower, PrevySageChuck**

\- The K-drama tragedy/Cuckloiding idea-er - **DantalianThe71st**

\- The Chunnifing editor - **A Kuma**

\- Subtle meme-ers: Being recruited

-Minor idea-er: BlueKnight

I want to avoid describing the appearance of lizardmen and elves too much as they have already appeared in the main series. It leaves more time to work on the juicy stuff.

3 more chapters. So, do you guys want me to tidy up the previous chapters so the story is more concise or nah... just continue...

 **[4]**

 **[iCactus]**

\- Battle scene writer - UniPotatoe

\- Proofreader/editor – TitanOfPower (Check out his works too - he did an awesome and amazing job with pointers)

 **[2]**

Loved the ideas you've sent me guys - Thanks UNIPOTATO, Oeiltheend and SpicyPizza.


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